


The Rise of Dragon's

by thetudors1



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Jon Snow, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family, Implied/Referenced Incest, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, War of the Five Kings, White Walkers, flash backs, from season 1, lyanna/ rhaegar mentioned, mentioned rape, slow burn dany and jon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-06-08 19:29:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 57,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15250425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetudors1/pseuds/thetudors1
Summary: After 15 years of hiding, Jon Snow is going to war, Joffery waters has murder the man he named father in cold blood and now seeks war with his brother and the North. But not all is as it appears to be for there are 4 Targaryens living in the world who will rise to claim back what was taken from them. Some say they are the Conquers reborn so follow Jon of house Stark and Targaryen, Persephone of house Baratheon and Targaryen, and Danerys Stromborn of house Targaryen as the take back their throne. For in the game of thrones, you win or you die and dragons never did die quietly.





	1. prolong

The Rise of Dragon’s 

 

Prolong

Blood, war and death, the endless cycle of my life this past year and it was all for nothing my father dead, my brother dead and my beloved sister gone and in her place nothing but a dark haired babe. The gods surely liked their jokes, what a twist of fate to bring a child into this world completely alone and only hours old, he should have been a prince maybe even a king one day. Instead, here he rested in the arms of an uncle ill-equipped to protect him, the very uncle half responsible for dooming his life, to begin with. Ha the gods, the gods what cruel beings they are, to thrust such choices before me I could hand him off, let him be raised by the loyal soldiers waiting outside, It would be easier and safer for me and my family if I did, but how could I? How ? after I promised in blood to protect him, my sister's son her only child.

“Promise me Ned” “Promise me” Her last words her last thoughts only of him, so it would be done, my choice was made, I would protect him with my life if need be, my nephew, now my son. Jon Snow a bastard boy of the North, the bastard of Winterfell, it would be a hard life, but a safe one away from court away from his last living family and the men no doubt tasked in killing them as Robert swore to do while sitting in the very throne his ancestors had created. Robert my brother once in name, not blood wasn't the same any more Robert Baratheon, King Robert now would kill him for the very blood that ran in his veins, Targaryen, Stark, Lannister, Baratheon, Tyrell, what did it matter who fathered him, a child was innocent of it all.

Innocent of all, so it would be done, Jaehaerys Targaryen the first of his name, trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, would die in this tower and be born anew as Jon Snow the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell and Warden of the North. And so with lies close to the truth, the world came to believe the story I weaved how my beloved sister Lyanna died of a fever due to wounds caused by Prince Rhaegar, not the truth of childbed fever.

Or How the legendary sword of the morning Arthur Dayne fell at my feet before the tower of joy, not a match for my northern steel and skill and his companions two, sir Oswell Whent and Gerald Hightower died beside him. A lie bolder than the others and harder to sell due to the very men still living and breathing not a days ride away from me. Such loyal men, such broken men, each willing to throw away there family and names in service of Jon, now no one but battered knights with many scars upon their faces to hide the truth of there once famous appearances.

Lies upon lies, half-truths, and endless secrets followed me home and into the very crypts of my family until there was nothing left to say or change, the story was told the ink was dry. I looked down upon my adopted sons face one last time before closing the lid on the tomb that would hide the truth from the light, Lyanna my sister, his mother there was no better place for the truth to rest in peace.

And so the years went on, winter and war came once more yet the boy remained safe and loved within the home of his uncle, untouched by the dangers lurking in the shadows of his life. For within the crypts the secrets remained or so the Lord thought but then the gods did love their tricks and a dragon never did die quietly.


	2. Eddard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, guys, this is my first fanfiction so please be kind with any comments or suggestions, I'm still looking for a beta reader so if any ones interested please message me. also, Jon character may seem a bit own character at first but I'm taking insperatiom from season 7 Jon even though the story starts in season one. the reason why will come out as the story unfolds, so enjoy.

Eddard 

 

15 years of peace and prosperity, 15 years of uncharacteristic change and strength, the North was different now stronger than it had ever been thanks to the mind of a boy. Jon my bastard son, my hidden nephew, took after his father and mother in the perfect blend of fire and ice, blessed with a mind like Rhaegar and strength of will like Lyanna the boy had grown into a man of action and thought. Madness or greatness the two choices for a Targaryen for they say the gods flipped there coin when a Targaryen was born and the world held their breath hoping for the best and fearing the worst. It was luck or kindness perhaps that made the coin land on greatness the day he was born, 15 and greatness already born even as a bastard it was hard to hide his nature.

“Ned?” , my wife Catelyn Tully pulled me from my Munising,“ Yes my love?”

“ You can't truly believe this is a good idea Direwolves as pets? It‘s not right they are wild beast they will grow to harm our children, I known it, Ned.” I smile at her worry 15 years of marriage and still a southerner at heart.  
“ Don’t smile it’s true”

I turn back to the scene below Robb, Jon, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon my northern children playing with Direwolves as if they were mer kennel dogs. 

“ Do not fret Cat, Jon spoke the truth, they are gifts from the old gods, sent to protect our children in these changing time.”

She huffs beside me I feel her rage before she even speaks a common bitterness in her tone when speaking of Jon “Only 5 are trueborn Ned, or have you forgotten !”

“ Tell me would your gods bless the bastard and call him equal, by gifting him the same thing as they.”

“I do not speak for the gods Cat, or known their opinions on matters of birth and station, but they have blessed this family with the sigil of our house, just like the days of old, I will not throw such a gift away on anger towards my mistake.”

“Mistake? you make it sound as if it was nothing” her tone is harder then before her rage growing, I sign and turn towards her “ let it be Cat”

Her head bows in resigned peace as we turn back towards our children, it’s a merry sight full of love and peace as they play a game of chase with the wolves below, I almost forget for a moment that Robb is almost a man, that soon Sansa will be married and gone with children of her own and of course Arya, Bran, Rickon and Jon will leave and make lives of their own. How they have grown in a blink of an eye no longer are they the babes who climbed my legs in a game of play. Still, in this moment they appear to be simply nothing more than 6 northern children.

Cat speaks once more beside me somewhat calmer them before “ Will you send him back to his wildings and Night Watch before the King’s visit ?”

I shake my head “ No that was the plan, he didn't wish to be here when the king arrived, but I received a raven earlier today, the grain and seed order was only half filled, Essos had some trouble with the Dothraki burning the crops. Will have to sit down and decide how to split it between the Lords and Free Folk before he can leave.” I respond evenly never taking my eyes off the children below.

She almost yells her response back although quite enough for the words not to carry down towards them but the children still turn to look upon us “You treat him as though he was your heir, not Robb”

So it will be the same fight, as always, I hold in my sigh as I begin to walk away from my wife and into the walls of the keep away from prying eyes and the children's ears. The door shuts loudly behind her as we walk into my solar “Cat ?”

“Don’t Cat me, your grooming him, why ? why did you raise your bastard son as if he was a lord, why would you allow him such freedom to impact the North is such ways?” Her rage is up now I think.

“ Jon is my son, you didn't wish to mother him and that was fine but do not think you can decide how I wish to raise a child you have no interest in.” I sigh once trying to contain my own rage at this endless fight.

“Jon is loyal and smart I have used his mind and ideas to benefit the North, the North our son will one day rule, with Jon no doubt by his side as they have been there whole lives,”

She slams her fits on the table “ No! I can't stand it anymore, years of waiting and hoping that you will send him away for good,” 

she moves to cup her face in her hands trying to hold back her tears  
“ But no each time he leaves he comes back stronger and more loved than before ”

The anger seems to win out, once more instead of hopeless tears for she begins to pace back and forth listing all the crime she believes Jon will or has committed, I try and contain my growing anger at her harshness and pariona.

“Why can't you see, why can't I make you understand? The glass houses, grain, and ships are all a ploy to grow his support within the northern houses they known who feeds them, they known it was Jon’s mind and deals that has lead to there growing wealth and full bellies”

She stops short a moment and stares me dead in the eye as I continue to listen in silence. “ He let the wildings thru the wall an army of men and women ready and able to march on Winterfell and take the north from your rightful heir. My son, our son, Ned ”

My hand slams against the table to stop her never-ending rant “ Oh enough Cat, I have spoken to Jon at length about everything, how many ways must I explain it to you before you believe me ?” mmm “ Nothing was ever and I mean nothing, without my input, knowledge or consent”

Her bark of a laugh is as cruel as the horrid twist of her face “ Must you lie to protect him, we both know my Lord that the wildlings were brought through without” she huffs “ What was it? oh yes without your input knowledge or consent ?”

“Fine, no they weren't, but Jon did tell me of his plan to gain their trust and let them thru , but I ignored him, told him it couldn't be done , they would kneel to no man” I shake my head as the memory floods me of a boy not yet 13 standing proud and unmoving in his plans.

“Do you know what Jon said a child of 13? No , well, I’ll tell you he declared before me and Robb, that man was born free and no one has the right to take that away, so he wouldn't make them kneel before him or take away the freedom they held so dear, NO ! for he alone seemed to believe the a man could be loyal, true and free even when they don't kneel, before us as if we were somehow above them.”

I stare my wife down trying to finally get the point across “ Do you finally understand Cat the boy craves no power, his only wish is to change a world broken by greed and these self-serving people, whose only goal in life is to take away from the voiceless.”

I expect more fighting and harsh words from my wife but instead, I see her run from the room with a swish of skirts and muttered excuse about preparing for the king.

An endless fight, I know I should go after her, try and repair the growing rift between us but I don’t. I’m tired of it all having to lie and keep secrets from her. Tired of ruling in truth this was never meant for me. This wasn't meant to be my burden, a moment of peace is all I get before Arthur Dayne walks in Art now.

“And that’s why I have never married” He jokes I open my eyes and look upon my friends face with a tired smile “Oh is that why I thought vows had something to do with it”

“Vows my Lord? what vows do you speak of it’s the scars that keep women at bay” He smiles back bright “Or so they believe” he walks away with a wink and the air of easiness uncommon to me.

I shake my head at him and stand once more ready to face the needs of my people before the king arrives, Arthur always did know how to ease the burden.

But what an odd friendship we had once destined to kill each other under a bleeding sun, now lifelong friends and loyal companions these last 15 years, Jon truly did change the world before he even knew how to.


	3. JON SNOW

Jon

Ghost my white Direwolf run’s around me in a circle an odd act for the often silent and unmoving wolf, still, even beast of legends like to play. His snow white fur and red eyes marked him as an outcast within his litter of brown and black direwolves. A fitting reminder I suppose from the gods, telling me once more that I don't truly belong here, that although I hide amongst wolves I am a dragon in right, a wolf with wings and fire in my eyes. I smile upon him once more as he pulls at my bootleg, so distracted by his playful game, I don't feel the presence of Art behind me until it’s too late and I'm waked on my head with a tsk from him. 

“ Those reflexes are lacking already snow” I roll my eyes at Art words, 

ever the joker, a funner teacher then most as he swings the blunted training sword in one hand while ushering me forwards with the other in a mock challenge to proves his words wrong.

“Aren't you meant to be annoying Lord Stark with your presence not hitting me whilst I train Ghost? ”

“ Ha If that was training, he’ll be eating you before the year is done”

I rub my head once more and push Ghost towards Greywind my brothers Direwolf so they might play together instead, as Robb walks over to join us.

“ That was a hard hit brother,” he laughs “ lucky for his hair Art or you might have ruined his pretty face and we can't have that the girls would cry from the wall to Dorne” they both laugh together at the common jest, I shove them both back in playful fun.

“ Well we can't all be kissed by fire or a purple-eyed beast, what would the women do then, but fling themselves from the wall stuck with you ugly lot”

We all laugh once more in humor at our jests

“ I can assure you both women would never run from me unless I was chasing them,” Art winks towards us,

“ You both have been spending too much time with the wildings, kissed by fire and stealing women what will the north come to if you both go wild on it” Robb responds back as he walks towards the keep holding out blunted swords and padding preparing himself for another training session. 

“It will be funner that for sure” Art yells towards his back “ But you best leave those Robb you can't train again today, your father has need of you, for the lord work is never done, or the heirs either for that matter.”

“ Am I fine to stay?” I ask as Robb throws the pads down in frustration 

“ It’s bullshit, I need to train not sit and listen as Lumin wines on about the cost of the Kings visit how many ears does one man need?” Robb huffs “ I swear brother I wish we were twins so we could switch places sometimes” 

“ Well lucky for me we're not so I get to practice while your put to sleep, enjoy kissed by fire” I laugh back as Robb shoves me on his way as his was of response. 

“ Come Greywind, if I must prepare for the King so shall you.” 

I shake my head at Robbs antics, as I prepare myself to train with Art, it's a drastic shift of mood as I pick up my training sword and turn to spar once more. A rage takes over a flood of pent up anger towards the world or the notion of the King in truth, the King the very man responsible for so many of the lies within my life. The two families almost solely responsible for so much darkness and selfishness in this world coming to my home, the Lannister and Baratheon clan. 

I cut down in a hard swing almost knocking Art out with the force of my blow after 20 minutes of hard sparing, he pushes me away dropping his sword with his hands raised. 

“What has you in such a mood? Our jest? I thought they wouldn't bother you so much anymore” 

“ They don't, after three years with wildings you think such things would bother me” I pant pack reaching for the water skin offered by him.

“Then, pray, tell me why we just fought as if you wished to kill me” 

My guilt comes full force then, “ Sorry for the rage I thought this was the best outlet for my sudden, drop in mood” I drink deeply once more trying to catch my breath after such a grueling exercise “Instead of ”

“Instead of ” Art questions “The King?”

I turn away from him, trying to leave my mood and impending conversation in the ring. I should have known it wouldn't be that easy for all Art’s accepting nature, he would push more than most, when I closed into my brooding and sullen nature. 

“ Why do you hate him so much?” 

I sign once “My reason are my own what does it matter to you ?”

“ Nothing beyond the fact you just tried to cut my head off in the ring” I turn away from his piercing eyes “ Rage like that is worrying and without a reason, well ” he lays his hand on my shoulder turning me towards him 

“ Jon I'm not going to lecture or judge? I'm with you all way I swear, do you have something we need to talk about? A reason you might have to hate the King” 

A simple question and yet suddenly I'm transported back to 10 years ago when I learned the truth of my life. 

 

 

Jon age 5

 

Panic, fear, freedom all these emotions coursing through me in an endless loop high above the sky where even clouds don't dare reach, I appear to be, an impossible thing. Yet here I am, A god? a dragon ? or just me Jon Snow? who's to say which beam I appear to be for in this moment I am nothing but the wind and sky as it stretches before me. The fear begins to ebbs away until I feel nothing but freedom and joy at this new sensation, I am at peace now as I fly over the world looking upon it from my perch above them. Everything seems so good and simple from up here, no hatred or pain for the bastard of Winterfell, there no mocking words or hateful looks, just freedom, and power. 

Power a single word or thought whose to known in this land of dream takes over the clam I felt and twist it's into something dark and horrid. My panic returns as I hear a screech behind me, yet I can’t turn my head to see what form of beast made such a broken sounded. My world shifts again as I move faster towards the ground looking for something or someone, a new kind of panic sets in, not one born from not knowing, no this panic is much worse, it’s the fear I get each time father leaves without telling me when he will return, one born from love. 

Faster and faster I move towards the ground, searching the sky again and again for the beast or thing that made the screech not a moment ago. Then I see it a form in the distance it’s a Dragon falling from the sky crying in agony and pain, I need to help them I need to save them. I push myself harder and faster but it too late they fall through the clouds and into a world on fire.

It the last thing I see, the death of a Dragon, the death of my family I think, before the fire swallows me two and I awaken in the crypts of Winterfell, before the statue of King Jon Stark. Winterfell my home, yet I'm not welcome here before the statues of my ancestors, my family. They seem to echo my thoughts as the souls of the dead begin to whisper in a chorus of voices. “You don't belong here”, “never belonged”, “leave”, “leave,” “I say run boy”, “run from us”, “you don't belong”, “never belonged”

And so I run, as fast as I can from the souls who wish me ill, I run towards the light of the entry, the voices echoing off the walls repeating their song of unwelcome, until i fall before her, my aunt Lyanna, the only woman to ever be buried beneath the walls of Winterfell. She sings a different song a familiar tone, the very lullaby my nurse Wylla sang to me before her departure. 

“I remember tears streaming down your face when I said   
I'll never let you go  
When all those shadows almost killed your light  
I remember you said don't leave me here alone  
But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight  
Just close your eyes, the sun is going down  
You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now  
Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound”

It a man's voice who sings the words, while my aunt hums along, the souls of Winterfell calm then, and begin to join in, they whisper words of love instead as there ghost surround me. My Grandfather stands before me then a man so familiar in look, yet one I will never know. 

“You belong child, but he doesn't listen to the song find the end and when morning comes you will be safe and sound” they disappear before me with sadness in their eyes, i'm left alone once more before the statue of my aunt. A new voice begins to whisper from the darkness of her tomb, a different song one just as familiar as the last 

“Wake me up, wake me up   
fire and blood,  
ice and snow,   
I am yours and you are mine.  
Blood of my blood  
Heart of my heart   
Your soul is mine   
Wake me up, wake me up  
For we are the song of ice and fire”

I jolt awake to the screech of a beast once more, but I'm alone in my bed in Winterfell, not high above the clouds or down in the crypts of Winterfell. It was only a dream I think as my heartbeat returns to normal. Only a dream and yet a voice echoes in my head wake me up ! wake me up ! we are the song, only a dream, only a dream I try and echo back towards my mind. I must be going crazy I think, hearing voices and dreaming the same dream night after night, and yet i feel it, a pull towards the crypts below, growing stronger the closer the days grow before my six birthday. 

I look towards my window then, it's still early in the night perhaps just past 12 the hour of the wolf, how fitting it is my birthday now technical, I move to reach for my favorite book, when I see it a present! no a sword wrapped with a bow. I rush from my bed reaching for it blindly in my excitement at such a gift when I trip over the shoes I hazardly left upon the ground. It’s a quick movement a swift grab of my hand one you would miss if you hadn't been looking, that causes me to cut myself upon the blade in my attempt at stopping my fall. And as the blood drips from my hand a trance takes over I hear the voice once more, but this time I answer the call.

No times passes, no memory of how I end up before the statue of my aunt, or how I opened the tomb's lid to begin with, yet I had and in my hands was an egg unlike the living was ever likely to see again. White and red, yet surround in a thick layer of ice, it appeared frozen in time, nothing more than a relic from stories of the past.   
Yet I felt it a heartbeat? No movement and heat, I close my eyes and listen once more and follow the song. This time it leads me out into the woods of Winterfell before the heart trees of the old gods I stand with a fire burning bright and true. I somehow knew what to do, call it instinct or a memory that somehow belongs within me yet never been taught what to do.

I find myself placing the egg within the fire, it should burn me, yet I feel no pain, as the blood drips from my hand and disappears within the flames, I feel nothing, nothing but joy? no, contentment as if a piece was missing from my soul before and now, now I have found it. The fire burns out in a blast of heat and what remains in its ashes is a dragon with ice in its color and fire in its eyes, my dragon I think, my kin, I can't help but smile as I reach for him and in that moment of contact, we become one.

I sit with him for hours or minutes who to say, for time seems to moves slowly in aftermath of his birth. Yet, with time I make my way back into the walls of Winterfell and into the crypts, my dragon staying preach upon my shoulder until exhaustion takes over. I manage to close, the lid of my aunt’s tomb once more and make a nest for my friend with a grey cloak found within. Somewhere within my brain, I have the sense to take the other items out as well, a book, papers, and a black cloak. Leaving only the crown and harp to lay still in its resting place. I leave then with a heavy bundle and a sleeping dragon hidden in plain sight filling my thoughts. Yet come morning my world becomes all the more changed, not only did I hatch a dragon but no I had uncovered the truth of my mother.

For her name was Lyanna Stark, which meant Eddard Stark wasn't my father no that title belongs to Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, it takes two years for me to age before I understand the truth hidden in the books and papers, two years before I stop hating my true father. I learn of their marriage and there love, I look for other answers too trying to come to terms with the why and hows of there union.

And within all that time within the wall of the crypts and the open caves of the north, Tartarus my ice dragon grows until we become almost one in heart and mind. The day I ride him for the first time, is the day I learn I was a hidden king one last grand joke played by the gods or so I thought. 

Art shakes me swiftly calling my name repeatedly “Jon! hello Jon ?” I swat him away with my hand “Where did you go just now?

“Sorry lost in my own mind, for a moment,” I shrug “ I'm tired and dirty Art I’m going to go get washed up before evening meal”

he shakes his head in surrender, well versed in my weirdness “Oi don't forget what I asked I want to know why you hate the king so much” 

I smile back “Come Art, I told you my reason are my own”

“ And a complete load of bullshit “ I hear him mutter back as I walk into the main keep of Winterfell I glance to the sky once more looking for him above, Tartarus my Dragon my other half, instead all I get is a push from a furry white Direwolf, Ghost my new companion and addition to the wild pieces of me, the gods ever the jokers I think.


	4. Persephone

Persephone 

White of hair and blue of eye I had the beauty and height typically found in my Valyria blood, but mixed with the sea blue eyes and extra strength of the Baratheon line. If born a boy or the very least black of hair I would have been a shining jewel for my house. Instead, I was a girl, cursed with the appearance and silver-white hair currently hated and despised within Westeros and by my uncle the King most of all. It wasn't an easy life to be hated by both sides of my family. From the moment of my birth, I was hated by the Mad King for my Baratheon blood and hated by King Robert for my Targaryen blood. What an odd thing, to live with, what a cruel thing I suppose, considering it wasn’t my choice to be born firstly and secondly from two warring houses.

It all started 22 years ago 5 years before the rebellion even began, my mother Morgana Targaryen sister to mad King Aerys and Queen Rhaella Targaryen. Decided to define all Targaryen customer and marry for love a knight of Dorne she took to wed, instead of the beloved Prince Rhaegar. 

Few would ever know the truth of her life many believed the story King Aerys told to shame his sister, painting her as a whore unfit to wed his son instead of a women in love. Aerys claimed before all the realm that 100 men had taken to her bed and 100 more would follow unless a pious man took her for wife, a man unburdened by the needs to rule a realm, a man strong enough to curb her rebellious mind. 

Lies upon lies Aerys spun, until that became the truth, few knew the horror, that had taken place within the throne room of the Red Keep. The first time the mad king burned a man with wildfire was the day my mother lost her love and husband. Not to mention the child within her belly, beaten from her womb before the Dornish Knight whose cries could be heard throughout the keep until the screams of his wife took over in a song of lost love for her now dead love and child. 

Time moved on and steal took over Morgana's once-generous heart, she became cruel, less forgiving towards the world and just as Areys hoped she learned her place marrying Stannis Baratheon as bid. Or so he believed but cruelness birthed an even crueler soul and within the protection of her home and husband lands, she began to lay seeds of rebellion within the mind of Stannis older brother each time he visited. Plotting for the downfall of her very own family, she perhaps would of led the charge if not for my birth weakening her so, a new love in her life a daughter born with silver hair and blue eyes, a child of both houses a new hope my mother found to soften her wish for war and death.

A mistake i can’t help but think, though a mother’s love is something to be cherished it made her do stupid things in the end, trying to balance both sides of her soul until the goodness won out and in a moment of kindness and strength she stood up to Areys once more hoping to stop the very war she once tried to inspire. By stepping in and trying to stop the burning of Lord Rickard Stark, she thought she would stop a war in its tracks. Unlucky for her a mad dragon couldn’t be reasoned with and when the Mad king burned his sister before the eyes of the Lord's and ladies of King Landing no one ever spoke against the King again. Lord Rickard Stark died any way his son two trying in vain a second time to save his father, war broke out and my mother’s house was destroyed, replaced with my father’s instead.

And through all that war and pain I was kept hostage within the Red Keep a plaything for Areys to poke at, my father remarried I was set on fire, but wouldn’t burn, my uncle was winning the battles, I was set on fire again this time with wildfire and yet I would not burn. On and on it went until the Mountain that Rides came for me. I was but a child of three and yet I knew where to hide, I had done it so often from Arey's soldiers that I knew where no man or beast could find me. It was my salvation in the end as well I suppose that it wasn’t Lord Tywin Lannister dogs that found me instead it was a kind-hearted Northmen, who took me to my uncle and eventually into the arms of my father.

 

Life got better after that I suppose, I was still at the mercy of a Mad King hell bent on killing me or hurting me at the very least for my appearance and Targaryen blood that ran in my veins. Yet my life on Dragonstone was safe, for I was loved and protected by the people once loyal to my family there. Within the halls of the seat Aegon the Conqueror began his reign, I began my own, I manage to manipulate my father into allowing me to learn how to fight and rule beside him, even if I was a woman.

I grew the island from nothing but a dock for ships into a trading port filled to the brim with ships made to double as trading vessels and warships the like the world had never seen. I grew rich and powerful under the protection of my father's name, hiding all the while the full extent of my power and plans.

Until I meet another boy years ahead his time, like me full of ideas and hope my cousin Jon Snow, Rhaegar son and heir. So we decided to change the world together for the betterment of our people. So just like my mother before me love and kindness took over my wish for war and death, all because I meant a dragon more powerful than me, I bowed to a King and became a better Queen for it.

I’m jolted from my musing as the carriage carrying us to Winterfell became stuck in the mud. Cersei Lannister the Queen of Westeros, turns her sharp eyes to me as if it was my fault the wheel broke.

“Well ?” she asks “Go and see what is been done about it, you stupid girl !” I hold back my sigh and roll of eyes at her upstart attitude, I merely bow in deference and leave the confines of the carriage finally and into the crisp air of the North.

I see the wheel is well dug in no doubt we have snapped another axel, which will have to be fixed again! before we continue onto Winterfell. I almost want to scream myself in pure frustration at the stupid wheelhouse, the damn thing has prolonged the journey from a two week trip to over a month. I quickly report back to the Queen on my findings already I can hear her sharp tongue response before the words leave her mouth. As if I want to spend any more time with these people least of all her, there few people I hate more in this world then the Queen, so been trapped with her and the golden children for a month on end was a torture I could live without. 

Stupid Silver hair and hateful uncle I think, if it wasn't for them I would of at least been on my horse riding beside people I actually like, like Tyrion or my bastard cousin Myra Stone, both enjoying each others company up ahead. 

My assumptions of a broken axle appears to be false as the carriage moves forwards from the mud, all appears in working order. Or so Cersei shout’s “YOU Girl telling lies again, get in so we can be on our way and put your coat back on before anybody sees you dressed like a man in those ridiculous leathers.”

I give into the temptation to roll my eyes at her this time, something she no doubts see’s, if her grimace and endless rant is anything to go by as I rest back into the carriage. Where only an hour away now from Winterfell I chant to myself an hour away from Jon, an hour away before I finally get to see the home and family he talks so often about.

Years of friendships and small rebellious acts within the North yet I have never seen his home or meet the extended members of his northern family. Often to busy or to in trouble to spare the time to travel to Winterfell for an informal visit of sorts. Jon the only reason I came with the royal progress instead of flying to the wall and traveling from there as I had done hundreds of time before.

 

An hour later, and I see it raising before me from my window seat, Winterfell the home of the warden of the North is infinite in size and presence. Spanning out in an enclosed keep with walls spanning 80 ft in height and a Godswood covering three acres it’s outer structure alone is a sight to behold. Let alone the castle itself spanning high above the ground with walls reaching at least 100 ft in height. It’s a powerful castle, a home once built for the kings of winter, it certainly lives up to the views I sneaked from the sky and stories Jon told me. 

The arrival is quick, a well-practiced dance for the King and Queen, Robert makes crude jokes and laughs, while Cersei scowls and judges mockingly with her eyes. Always the same I think as my eyes wander the space around me taking in the many faces and sights until they land on Jon. He’s pushed slightly behind his supposed siblings even though Lord Stark has made him a Lord in his own right. he stands quietly beside a boy and armed man, I do not recognize an odd image I think.

For Jon standing somewhat alone is an odd occurrence these days, it’s an even stranger sight to see him pushed behind his family without one or more of his hidden king's guards standing close by in a protective stance. No doubt there hiding in plain sight as always, simply making sure to keep away from the men and women who might recognize them, Sir Jamie Lannister most of all. I smile then as I study Jon, not much has changed about him in our months apart, maybe a bit taller again, definitely cleaner, with shorter hair and a clean-shaven face. 

I see his face stiffen and scowl deepen as the King demands he be taken to the crypts to pay his respect to a women, who would have rather died then love him, Lyanna Jon's mother.

The Queen scowls on as she follows Lady Stark inside, another woman I hate on principle if nothing else. I’m all but forget like always as the highborn children walk forwards to escort the royal children inside. Many eyes turn to me then as I whistle out to Jons retreating back 

“Winter Dragon” I yell out in the old northern tongue, I smile as I drop my hood, revealing my face and hair to the people still gathered but showing myself to Jon most of all.

“Sep ?” he freezes for a moment in shock before striding before me with powerful strides, it’s a happy reunion full of familiar warmth as he scoops me up in a hug and twirls us around barking a laugh out as well.

“How? what ?” he stutters out as he drops me back down “what are you doing here?”

There nothing but a hair's breadth between us, as I look up into his grey eyes, it would be so easy to reach up and kiss him, like I wish to but, this isn't wilding territory so I smile smugly instead and go for teasing. 

“ It’s a royal progress to the North my Lord or had you forgotten? I am in fact a Princess”I laugh at his dumbfounded expression.

“No I hadn't forgotten, even though it would be easy to, it not like you dress like a Lady, least of all a Princess in all that leather .” His eyes follow his words, filling me with warmth as he takes in my appearance, not that he can see much in my think fur-lined coat.

I bite my lip holding back my desire to jump him as I laugh back “True, but I told you once, what I am, not a Lady, Princess …” 

“Or girl! but a warrior in leather, who will cut my head off, if I look the wrong way” He cuts back “ Yes I’m well aware of having received a few hits form you”

His eyes appear to smolder in appreciation of memories of rough lovemaking no doubt filling his mind. 

“I would never”I gasp out “ Lady’s do not raise their arms against any man, least of all a Lord” I mock back falling into the easy banter between us. His laugh is my reward for the tease as are the eyes of many it seems. 

We take a step back from each other, having not realized the closeness of our bodies as we talk. It like where no better than wild animals having spent months apart all we want to do is bolt or fuck the moment we taste freedom or see each other. 

Yet we manage to compose ourselves as we take notice of the voices and questions of the people surrounding us, each judging our familiarity as to forward between ones not married or related. His brother Robb and Theon Greyjoy are the loudest of the bunch as they conversers about my beauty and question whether or not Jon has deflowered me? the lucky bastard if he has. The cruder comment coming from the squid naturally, Jons signs beside me, taking another step back and offering his arm, the facade of the bastard son back in place, as he walks me towards his brother, the better-suited escort for a Princess even a hated one. 

Robb and Theon bow low as Jon introduces us “ Brother, Theon, this is Lady Persephone Baratheon, Lord Stannis daughter, first brother of the King”I curtsy back in proper etiquette.

“Lord Stark, it is a pleasure to see, you again, you appear much changed since last time we meant, as I’m sure I am to” My smile is easy open and friendly as he kisses my hand.

“You are my Lady, if I may be so bold you have grown more beautiful than my imagination could have ever dreamed up.” 

I laugh back “so you have been dreaming of me, my lord ?” 

“Since last, we meet my Lady” Robb flirt’s back a familiar dance all boys seem to play how dull, still Jon stifling beside me, forces me to be harsher in my teasing back.

“ How very cruel you must find my own mind, then my lord, for I must confess, if not for Jon’s introduction, I wouldn't be able to point you out in a crowd.”

It’s a lie me and Jon both know it with Robb’s red hair and bright blues eyes combined with his northern build, mark him out to be a very handsome man easy to remember and lose your head over. Still, Robb seems forgiving of my jib as he laughs and clasps Theon on the back.

“Well if the Lady forgot me, Theon, you stand no chance !” both brothers laugh as Theon scowls quickly before cockiness takes over.

“Will have to wait and see boys, I doubt I’ll be so easy to forget once we have a night full of memories”

“And laughter” I snark back “ For that will be the only way you find us alone together Greyjoy ” Robb laughter breaks anew at Theon’s rage and my jest wiping his eyes from laughing too hard, Jon is more restrained as always a hearty laugh but quick in its delivery. 

“Come my lady” Jon responds back “ I will show you to your rooms so you may prepare for dinner.”

I nod in acceptance as we pass Robb and Theon, courtly smiles now upon our faces. No doubt we appear to be quite the sight for the common folks and soldier’s still mulling about. A bastard son and hatred Princess walking arm in arm into the keep of Winterfell.

 

Yet unfortunately for the Princess and Lord in their haste to retreat from judging eyes, they miss the ever cunning ones of Lord Tyrion Lannister upon them. Seeing for the first time a pair of children, whose appearance is to similar in looks to not be family or the very least have some kind of connection to a long-dead silver-haired Prince and dark-haired Lady.


	5. Tyrion

Tyrion 

It's a dull affair, full of drunk men and blushing maidens, like always. I thought the Northern Lords present would at the very least up the excitement of the night. Rumors of there barbaric ways no doubt an over exaggeration of the truth, like most stories, I muse, still perhaps they were simply on their best behavior for the King. A joke really considering his own pitiful behavior, acting no better than a common whoremonger, red-faced and drunk, with a women in one hand and a drink in the other. I could all but feel my sister hateful gaze towards her husband from my hiding spot against the wall the heat of it so strong.

I turn my gaze from that pitiful sight and focus on more interesting findings, ah like the bastard of Winterfell. Now he was worthy of my attention, it was an odd curiosity of mine, but basted, cripples and broken things always did take my fancy. 

But Jon Snow now he was a curious case, a new puzzle I wished to unravel, a basted boy with nothing to inherit, raised to a Lord before the age of 14 after the demands of more than half the Northern Lords to make him so. Odd to odd even for the shut-in and strong will people of the North. 

Even more curious were the stories, the boy who changed the North, Persephone Baratheon interrupts my musing. 

“Are you in love, Tyrion? shall I ring the bells and alert lord Tywin of the upcoming wedding” she smiles so sweetly you could almost be fooled into thinking she’s innocent.

Her evening attire is off-putting as well, to say the least clad in a black and yellow gown sew with gold thread to represent the cycle of the moon and stars. She appears to be the maiden herself, so innocent and beautiful even a blind man would stare at her for hours. The only familiar part of her appearance is the tightly weaved bun high above her head, same as always, a nod to her continued effort to distracted the King from her Valyrian looks. 

“ Is that you Persephone? A man could go blind with a dress and face like that”. Her laughter rings clear.

“ How dull of you Tyrion, to use the same complement’s as all men” 

I smile back as my eyes travel back to Jon Snow “ Forgive me, my mind was somewhat distracted from thinking of a more interesting quip” 

Her eyes follow mine until they land on the same table “ By Jon? Why he's a dull sort of that I can assure you” 

I snort back “Hardly, even all the way in Casterly Rock we heard stories about Eddard Stark bastard son, they were less than dull my dear” 

She frowns quickly, a show of emotion I would have missed if I wasn't so good at mapping people faces “Well stories often are, that's the point of such gossip”

She looks bored as she hands me a wine glass before taking a sip from her own “ To peak your interest though, they must of been quite exaggerated” She raises her eyebrow in question.

“Ha don't act so coy, my lady, he’s peaked your interest too” I mock back, studying her closely.

“Hardly” she mocks back herself, with a bored look upon her face and shifting eyes, scanning the room once more. 

I can't help but push further in a mocking yet serious tone “ Oh Hardly is it? Odd considering it was but a mere 4 hours ago, I did stumble upon you in his tight embrace, you seemed less than un-interested then my dear” 

“One could almost say, you were smitten?” I smile back smartly while studying her face. Ah, there's that quick frown again, showing her discomfort, even if her words and tone don’t.

She snorts once “A hug is a hug, not an embrace as you called it” I laugh at her rub off as she turns fully back to me.

“Not in a whore house” I whisper

“Really? I didn't think whore’s sold friendship” she raises her eyebrow in challenge. 

“No, they don't,” I shrug back “ I would of no doubt tried it” she rolls her eyes at that 

“ But of course, how silly of me” 

“ Still odd, are you and I not friends ?” I raise my eyebrow back to her in challenge “And we do not embrace or hug in such a way”

She sighs at that comment “We aren't friends Tyrion”

“ No ?” 

“ No!” She smiles easily “We are family, which is much, much worse” 

We both laugh at her quick wit and jest raising my glass in toast “Ha true enough! still ?” 

“Still ?” She questions, as I drink deeply letting her mull it over. 

“ I don't ?” I start before she cuts me off 

“ Well I'm sure a man of your stature” she looks down jibing at my height

“ As Tywin Lannister son you wouldn't recognize such a thing, that man isn't even friendly to his own children let alone anyone else,” the clever girl said with a straight face and unchanged voice, most would accept her words but not me, I taught her this game.

“ Definitely true, but I do have friends and I don't embrace them with such affection” I push on, she looks down an easy smile now plastered upon her face.

“Well, I am my mother's daughter” smart again telling me the truth but wrapped up in an unimportant comment.

She gives away a small hint to the truth, saying it’s sex, not love, most men would accept that, but not me I see between the lines her mother loved not lusted after men. 

I smile in acceptance towards her words, yet she continues on “ Still how does the saying go, with a family like ours I could use a few good friends” 

Her face is blank, her eyes menacing, yet she smiles walking towards a group of Lords calling for her, once the words are out “ Have a good night Lord Tyrion.”

Another hint I think, but simple in its point, a command to back off without saying the actual words. So Jon Snow was under the fierce Lady Baratheons protection, what a new twist, that girl cares for no one, like her father that way. What is it about Jon Snow that seems to draw people in.

Damn I think as I turn back to the table, he's gone I quickly scan the room searching for the boy, intent of enticing him into a chat, so I could learn what makes Jon Snow tick.

I spot him at the last moment as he reaches for Persephone arm stopping her from no doubt stabbing the Lord she was currently talking with. That girl had a temper, but still, it was hard to set her off in such a manner.

Yet the most shocking thing about the In counter isn't that Persephone is about to stab someone no, the fact that Jon Snow has the power to stop her in her tracks is. Not to mention the fact that she follows without restraint as he moves her away from the Lords hands it seems a habit for her done with a natural ease. Ha, I think so the plot thickens.


	6. Jon

Jon 

It's another typical feast full of men drinking there fill and me pushed to the back away from my family. It's the one slight Lady Stark can still use against me without reproach from my father and the northern Lords. Funny that something meant to hurt me is actually a gift, who in their right mind would want to be sitting next to a Lannister the younger ones seem fine, but the Queen and Prince appear to be right pricks, scowling at everything in sight. I laugh as Theon grabs Robb's arm halting him from no doubt lunging at the Prince as he leans to close to Sansa who will always be our little sister.

I have the mind to join him at the table, a stronger menacing presence for the Prince to contend with, but as I go to stand my eyes just catch the light flickering off the knife Persephone is slowly unsheathing from her hip. I rush forward rudely pushing past knights and ladies to reach her in time, it’s a mer second, maybe a blink of an eye as I resheath the blade and pull her hand back and into mine. A moment more and the fat Lord would be sporting a very different face, pain instead of anger at my interruption, ha he’s luckily I even helped after where his hand was placed

“ Excuse me, Lord Manderly, but I promised the Lady a dance, and typical Northman of me I only know dances to three songs, one which is playing next, if you would excuse us” 

He bows with a kiss to Persephone hand and a smile of acceptance, before speaking in a lewd manner “Of course, I hope we can continue this later my lady” 

“ Only with a table and chairs between us my Lord” I pull her arm in warning “ For my feet are already sore as I'm sure yours are too” 

Her sweet smile and beautiful faces pull him in once more, making the comment seem less biting and more seductive and caring. Stupid man can't even see what’s right in front of him.

We walk away, slowly moving towards the open space converted into a dance floor for the guest. 

“ I wasn't going to kill him” She speaks first in a tone mixed with annoyance and slight anger.

“ No ?” I raise my brow to her giving off a look of disbelief.

“ No” She states with a shrug and sly look towards me “Just maim him a little” She adds with a laugh and toothy smile. 

I sigh and glance upon her face once more “Well while your here no maiming” Her eyes light up at that, “Or killing whilst here in the North ”I add on in exasperation which earns me a pout.

“You just want to suck the joy out of everything,” She says with a wicked smile and bite of her lip teasing me now. 

“If I must then yes, but I'm sure you'll thank me later,” she shrugs at that “But if you must kill join in on the hunt tomorrow and aim an arrow close to his head” 

We both smile wickedly at that our eyes lighting up in joined mirth “Just make sure you miss” I add with a laugh.

She snorts back “ Boo your no fun” I roll my eyes at that as we move closer to the dance floor. 

“ But it doesn't matter we don't get to go on the hunt tomorrow it's unseemly me a woman and you best stay away from the King” she whispers close to my ear. 

“True … I really didn't think about it, I'll stay away I have things to see to anyway” 

“Yes? Like me” She whispers once more even closer than before her breast just brushing my arm, there's that wicked smile again, added to with a bite of her lip, a move she knows I can't resist.

I laugh at that always wicked 

“He’s still watching” she continues to whisper in my ear “ I suppose will have to dance”

I pull her back at that and shake my head “ No” 

“Yes “ she continues to pull me with a sweet smile “ Come it will be quick and painless” 

I contemplate digging my heels in, dancing is not my idea of fun but, then the idea is not to create a scene so I let her pull me along, stone-faced the whole way. 

“Nothing with you ever is” I joke as we stand across one another.

She scrunches her nose at “ only because you enjoy it so” Ah the lip bites back she really is trying to drive me mad.

We join the dance than moving in a step of 123 with slight twirls and touching, It’s odd to find us so in sync having never danced together before. It becomes a fluid movement and natural in an odd way, we seem to make quite the pair. 

“For someone who hates dancing you're quite good” She speaks once more. 

“ Well it was you who told me dancing is just like fighting, only less bloody” I snark back 

“ Not with me” we laugh loudly at that.

I here the King mutter behind me after, slamming his drink to the table as we turn in a circle I glance my eyes to him, gone is his distraction of a serving wench his focus entirely on Sep and me. He always did hate her happiness. I focus my eyes back to her, the smile is still in place nun could tell the difference in her mood to indicate she noticed the King, but its there in the tightness of her smile as we twirl.

I brush my hand just below her third rib it's her ticklish spot, learned from prolong mapping of her body, she can't help but smile and laugh at the contact and memory. 

“I do believe my Lord you have caught another man in your trap” A real smile this time.

“ Me, hardly there all looking at you” 

She shakes her head a few strands of hair coming loose as I lift her once   
“ I'm nothing next to your Northan beauty and pretty face” 

I snort as I lower her back down“ I promise you by the end of the night all men will be in love with you” 

Our eyes make contact in the next spin, her smile is wicked once more as our hands join above our heads “ Oh what a pity” she whispers as she steps close, than back “I'm only using one of them” 

“ I'm sure he doesn't mind “ I deadpan back, my eyes, alight with lust as I watch her move, understanding her meaning all to well. 

“ Men never do” 

Her smile is bright as I twirl her once more in the fluid pattern of the song it's the last turn before the end a lift then a dip for her. That's when disaster seems to strike for with a long dip her hair falls loose. A blanket of long silver curls flowing down her back free from the tightly held bun. 

As she spins to stand before me again, I fall along with every other soul in the room a little bit in love but mostly in aware of her beauty. My breath hitches at the sight, I've seen her as many things. A girl, warrior, queen and even my lover but she has never looked more beautiful to me then in this moment. 

Her dress and face sparkle to god like calebra making her look like a goddess amongst men. It's the sound of the King slamming his cup and breaking it in two with the sheer force of the blow, that breaks me from my stumper. 

We quickly bow to each other as property demands before I take Persephone hand and repeat the motion to the Queen whose dark green eyes stare down upon us, so full of hate one would think we might burst into flames. The King's own face shows a look a little better than the Queens, as we nod towards him, hate seeming to sep from his very pours as he stares deadly towards Persephone’s face and no doubt, long Targaryen coloured hair.

It an awkward affair for all those involved tight smiles now upon our faces as we clap for the musicians, who quietly start another song, one ill-suited for dancing smart of them, giving us an out to leave the dance floor. I take Persephone arm once more leading her towards the table hosting my family.

It a quiet affair as we make small talk amongst ourselves, Robb is perhaps the least affected by the King and Queens continuation gowling towards Persephone and no doubt myself as I have yet to take my leave of her. 

Myra Stone, the bastard daughter of the King swipes in next to Sep before quietly whispering something to her and pointing towards the door. I only spot the motion out of the corner of my eyes as Bran distracts me with a question about the difference between southern Knights and King guards. 

When I turn my eyes once more back to Persephone, she's gone from my side and is now making haste out the door, Myra in toe. I frown towards them, wishing more than anything to follow her and calm either the rage or fear coursing through her in response to the murderous looks King Robert was throwing at us. 

An hour passes one filled with small talk and quiet jabs with my brothers and yet the King, Queen and Jamie Lannister have yet to fully turn their gaze from me it is as disconcerting as it is annoying. I finally spot my chance to leave as the Queen and Kingslayer are pulled into a conversation with her daughter. 

I still feel the King's eyes following me until two of the prettier serving maids are pushed in front of him. I smile towards a figure covered by darkness in the corner, I spot him do the same of another carrying a plate full of med and wine. I smile towards him with a nod as I make my escape, thankful for Art or Waters intervention cleave of them to hide in plain sight, I should have known they would never truly leave me alone even with the Kings visit, I have loyal kings guards till the end.


	7. Eddard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, guys, I updated two because this is small filler chapter form the show, that I found still important enough to add in but not explore more, hope you enjoy.

Eddard 

I'm all but hiding against the wall away from the commotion of the feast and actions of the King. 15 years of war, death and ruling and yet Robert is unchanged from the carefree man of our youth, a boy who liked nothing more than a drink and whore is now a man with the same appetite and appreciation. I shake my head as Robert pulls a serving wench close all but burying his face in her bosom, what a joke. I can't help, but judge him lacking next to Jon’s own actions when hosting a gathering even with wilding’s the boy commanded respect, standing tall amongst us, better suited for it than even me, Kings blood I think. 

“You at a feast, like a bear in a trap” I hear my brother Benjen speaking behind me, coming close as I smile slightly.

“ Brother” I nod in greeting “The boy I beheaded, did you known him ?” 

“Of course I did good lad tough a true ranger” he states back solemnly while rubbing his beard in thought.

I huff back shaking my head “He was talking madness, saying white walkers murdered his friends” 

“Well those with him are still missing” 

“Hmm a wilding ambush” I question back, but Benjen shakes his head an unconvinced look upon his face. 

“ I know” I sigh in acceptance “ It’s unlikely considering Jon’s strict laws amongst them, still a group of that many people, a few might break laws it’s human nature and the hate between the Night’s Watch and Free Folk runs deep, even now ”

“Mabey, still direwolves south of the wall, talk of white walkers and my brother the hand of the King, strange things are happening” 

“ I winter is coming” 

“Winter is coming” He echo’s our house words back solemnly. 

“Uncle Benjen” Robb interrupts in a happy tune, as he hugs his uncle.

“Will talk later” I nod back in acceptance moving back toward the table housing my Queen and wife, I spot Jon walking with Persephone to the dance floor, that's a worrying sight, what could the boy be thinking drawing attention to his relationship with that girl. I shake my head I know it only friendship a friendship that has helped the North tremendously but it's a worrying thing always has been two Targaryen together would always attract attention even if only one knew of their origins.


	8. Tyrion

Tyrion

I leave the hall swiftly, staggering slightly due to the amount of wine I've consumed, within the past hour of my boredom, it's dark out barely any touches lit. I'm almost freezing my balls off, damn northerners how they stand it, I'll never know. I drink deeply from my wineskin hoping it will warm me when I hear it, loud clanging, Ah the bastard so we finally meet. I can barely see him so clad in black, the boy seems to seep into the darkness, if it wasn't for the one torch and noise, I'd have walked straight past him. 

I stagger once more tripping over something slightly, while I rub my arms along my chest for warmth. He flashes towards me training sword raised, looking for all the world as if he was the warrior himself, ready to take on any form of evil in his path.

He lows the sword quickly, a bowing of his head in reference to my station.

“You're Tyrion Lannister? The Queen's brother?” He states evenly, slightly out of breath.

“My greatest accomplishment.” I snark back “ And you, you're Ned Stark's bastard, aren't you?” 

He turns sharply at that, laying down the training sword, with practiced ease and stepping towards me, meaning to take his leave, a look of pure frustrated etched upon his face.

“Did I offend you? Sorry.” I raise my hands in innocent surrender “You are the bastard, though” I can't help but jib, seeking his opinion on the matter.

“Lord Eddard Stark is my father” His face tenses as he mutters it out, having halted his steps and turned his face back to look at me.

“And Lady Stark is not your mother, making you … the bastard. Let me give you some advice, bastard, never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you” 

“What the hell do you know about being a bastard?” Ah rage, a sensitive spot for the lad then, good to know, I smik bitterly. 

“All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes” 

He puffs a breath out at that, not quite a laugh before nodding in acceptance, of my words, not quite a sore spot than, odd.

“Good advice but I learnt that trick a long time ago”

Hmmm, he’s a contradiction than “ Really then why did you walk away”

A shrug mirrored with a blank face is my only answer, I hmm think it over within my mind, so this boy is going to be hard to get a read on, Persephone was definitely wrong, no dullness here.

“ I was tired of pointless conversation this evening”

“Nothing with me is pointless of that I can assure” I wink towards him raising my wine skin in salute of me.

“Typical Lannister” He snorts out, shaking his head.

“Indeed? Your quite bold bastard” I question openly, turning my eyes back, studying him more closely.

“As are you dwarf” He banters back, quick on his feet this one.

“How so?” I push on in question.

“I could cut you through and yet you mock me ?”

I let a laugh lose at that, a typical warrior too then, another piece of him. He's making it too easy, pity all warriors share the same opinion, about those with a mind.

“Well If I let my height stop me I would never speak to anyone”

We laugh at that, a slight camaraderie forming.

“Tell me, Jon ?”

“ As a bastard boy with nothing to inherit, you rode off to join the valet men of the Night Watch, you then left them and become a king of wildlings, odd” I probe on, studying his face, looking for any slight ticks or give away movements.

“You had nothing now you could inherit everything”

His eyes darkened at that becoming almost black, a sign of his rage returning “The North is loyal to the Starks” He bites out.

“ Are you not a Stark ?” Hmm, I bait him again, come on give me one more piece boy.

“I am my father-son, my name doesn't matter” His tone is low, his voice giving little away. No indication as to who he is referring to maybe, not Lord Stark then, interesting, poor boy has no clue at how to play the game.

“It seems you have learnt the trick already bastard” He nods, at that thinking were done as he walks away, pity I'm having too much fun, to let him quite yet.

“ Yet the wildlings are loyal to you, not the Starks ? as you say you don't have their name” I ponder to his back, he freezes at that, a frown now etched on his face.

“No Just my loyalty, something a Lannister could learn”

“What is that? Loyalty” He’s quick-witted but so am, It's easy to spar back.

“No , the ability to have power and not willed it, Just because a man can change a world doesn't mean he should and just because a man has power doesn't mean he will willed it for selfish gain” it’s a powerful belief said with fire in his eyes, I can't help but agree with him, drawn into his aura for a moment. 

“Goodnight my lord “ He finishes with a bow for diplomacy as he walks away.

“ Good night “ I smile you honourable lair, I sit awhile in the cool air of the North pondering all I learned, before heading to the library, intent on filling in the last pieces of my puzzle.


	9. Jon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys new chapter hope you enjoy, I hope it longer than the last, I do have a lot written and kinda just want to give you the other 20 chapters now. But I'am have writer's block at the moment so need some in the bank, so I might stick with the once or twice a week plan. if you have any questions please message me or write a comment and i will get back to if I can thanks enjoy.

Jon 

I'm all but falling down from sheer exhausted as I make my way up the many stairs of Winterfell, this would be the perfect time to fly, without a dragon I think as my eyes drop slightly as I yawn. The emotional turmoil of the day alone would be enough for most to retire early to bed but added to the physical exertion of the day and my bed has never appeared so far. 

King, Queens, Lannisters, Baratheons, and family all needed something from me today, a greeting, a dance or just a frustrating conversation. That left me feeling as though I gave away some secrets I didn't know I had and maybe the ones I do. Damn Lannister, Tyrion was a pain if I ever saw one, but an enjoyable one at that in his own way, how frustrating I think. Though I doubt I would ever be able to get a read on that man.

I finally reach my room entering in a loud bang of my door swinging open, I'm already half stripping off my clothes intent on sleeping for the next 6 hours at least. I freeze at the sound of a musical laugh.

My eyes spring open, reaching for the sword, strapped to my waist still, ‘Please don't stop on my account I was enjoying the show” I sigh as Sep steps from the darkness caused by her perch on the window sill. 

She’s changed clothes now, dressed in little more than a coat and sleeping slip, her corset still in place thankfully, meaning she still wearing undergarments instead of night clothes. I doubt she could get away with her appearance otherwise.

Not that it’s much better, I think, still, she can't be here, not after the night we've had, to many eyes waiting and watching us, to get away with such things, like bedding a princess. 

“You have to go” I huff walking towards her swiftly, retightening her robe in one swift motion, shielding her body from view. 

She smirks at that, biting her lip slowly as her hand wanders along my upper body, I grasp it firmly just as she reaches to low.

“ Stop” I growl.

“Why?” She whispers moving her body to press against mine.

“You know why” I mutter back, stepping further away from her warm body, but still grasping her upper arm in my hands, to hold her still. “There are too many people here, too many eyes” 

She smiles wickedly at that, loosening her robe once more, pulling it down her shoulders, with her free hand. My eyes follow the movement, darkening in lust and hunger, I swallow once.

“ Sep, I said stop” I growl out once more, my conviction wavering at the continued sight of her lethal body and cupped breast. 

“ Didn't it make you mad,” She teases stepping closer to me once more, I can't fight the instinct to caress her arm instead of hold it away from me, the feel of her so warm and welcoming. 

“ To see Lord Manderly hands upon me, or how about all those looks other men were throwing my way, Knights, boys even your own brother” She whispers the last bit, biting my ear, before pushing away from me walking towards the door. 

My restraint does snap at that remark, a possessive rage flashing a new within me. remembering where that Lord's hand was pressed upon her back, just grazing her backside in unwelcome touch. Not to mention all the looks and comments I had to endure from all the men around me lusting after her like she was a piece of meat and they were starving dogs. Even from my own brother and that blasted Greyjoy and what did I do but listen in silence as they sort to claim her as there's.

Well now she would be mine, I slam her against the door, ripping her coat from her body in a violent motion she awaken the wolf now. Her head rolls roughly to the side as I kiss her neck, trying to mark her as mine, she pants a moan out, before I finally give in fully, crashing our lips together in the game to silence, yet excite her. 

It's a rough kiss full of passion, and possessive lust as our tongues and breath mix together. I moan into her mouth as her hand wanders down my body, scratching my back as she pushes me against her center. 

I twist her sharply, slamming her against the door as we break apart panting for breath. I brush the underside of her boob, still hidden within her corset, now that won't do. I swiftly grab the dagger on my belt, cutting through her ties, ripping it from her body. 

“ Someone eager” She breathily whispers to me.

“ Are you complaining” I state back between kisses along her neck “ You baited me into this, now you got the wolf” 

She laughs at that “ Pity, I wanted the dragon too” I bite Into her neck at that sucking deeply, marking her as mine.

“You’ll get him, but first I'll have you like a wolf”

I spin her back around, slamming our mouths back together, it's all teeth and licks as we move back towards the bed, I grow impatient quickly, deciding to pick her up instead, her legs wrap around me as best they can, clad as she is in her dress.

I throw her on the bed in aggression and lust, I smirk down upon her as she leans back in a tease, slowly undoing the ties keeping her breast hidden from my view. She opens one side than the other, slowly starting to rub her nipple while the other hand travels lower seeking her mound, as her dress hitch’s I see the wetness, of her folds, glistering in the low light, my mouth waters at the sight.

I moan out, grabbing her leg and pulling her towards me “ I thought you want me like a wolf ” She moans out in a deep breath.

“ I do but first a taste” I push her legs further apart, ripping her dress off, before kneeling before her.

She already dripping through her folds, as I take a long lick from her entrance to her clit, a familiar honeyed yet salty taste. She moans loudly as I begin feasting on her outer lips, sucking her flesh into my mouth. I'm a goner now, the beast taking over as the pure taste and smell of her engulfs me.

I keep going repeating the motion, again and again, feasting on her with licks upon her outer lips, sucking her pulsing flesh into, my mouth over and over licking her dry. The sounds that echo throughout the room are indecent, in their volume, I raise her leg over my shoulder while reaching my hand up to cover her mouth trying to silence her moans. She bites down at that.

Panting out a “Gods, Jon, more,” As she scratches my skull, I pause in my movements at that, glancing up at her. 

“ You have to be quiet” She glances down towards my belt panting in need, I smile towards that reaching for it swiftly before placing it in her mouth. 

I bend down once more lightly flicking her clit, satisfied I can still hear her moans through the strap, though muffled enough that no one else will. 

I trace up back to her clit and flicking it, feeling her shake beneath my exploring hands. I reach back up towards her breasts, annoyed to find her own hands there, I brush them away, playing with the nipples. She shudders under me as I twist them lightly, her moan echoes around me the strap falling lose.

I lift my head placing the strap back in her mouth as I push her legs further apart. Stroking her soft cunt with my hand, as I trace my middle finger over her entrance, sliding in, I groan out, as she clenches around my finger, the sheer tightness of her heaven.

I could feast on her for hours more, the taste of her divine after months apart, but I want her to come, my own needs becoming more pressing as my cock twitches in pain. 

I slid another finger in, stroking inside her, her hips rolling against mine with each thrust. Back arching in pleasure as my lips find her clit again, I start to alternate between sucking and licking as I thrust my fingers within her. Each move causing a familiar reaction, of pleasure her hips rising against me with each lick and suck while shifting beneath me with each thrust. 

“Don’t stop” She all but screams, a hand gripping hard in my hair once more. “Faster,” She urges rubbing against me harder. 

I obey happily thrusting harder and deeper in time with each lick of my tongue, she’s so wet now, dripping on the bed in waves of juices flowing, I lick faster, hearing her panting and moaning speed up with each twist of my mouth.

Her thighs tighten around my head, her toes pointed against my back, as I bite down with a growl upon her clit, seeding her over the edge. Her whole body shakes beneath me, my name released from her mouth as she bows off the bed in finish. 

I remove my fingers lapping up her climax as she continues to shake beneath me. Her thighs loosen their grip upon my head, she tugs on my hair once. I rise over her kissing a path up her sweat covered body, now flushed from her climax.

She flips us over, with pure strength, she’s a sight to behold bare above me.

“ I hope you enjoyed your feast?” She questions between soft kisses, before turning rough, ripping off my shirt in a powerful tug, before repeating the motion with my pant ties. “ Cause I'm ready for a ride” 

I growl at that flipping her back over, she squealed in shock, letting out a laugh. I throw off my boots and pants her eyes watching all the while a wicked smile upon her face. 

“Turn over” I whisper, stepping back on the bed over her 

“ hmm like a wolf this time?” She breathes out, turning to her stomach quickly as I raise her hips with my hands, pulling her close. I thrust in swiftly, she’s wet enough for me to slide in with ease our moans mingle together in ecstasy. 

“ The first time” I pant into her neck 

It’s a familiar pattern, of thrusts and slaps of skin, as I push harder into her, our moans growing louder, I bite into her shoulder at a particularly hard thrust, pushing her into the pillows. 

I raise my hand from her hips to her clit once more, rubbing it in motion of my thrust, she pushes back harder almost impaling herself on me. I stead us before thrusting harder once more lifting her arms into mine changing the angle to reach deeper within her. 

We can't hold it long, our combined moans growing too loud once more, I push her forward on my next thrust, forcing her face into the pillow as I bite her neck muffling our moans.

“ Flip over “ I pant out, she obeys quickly, it's a moment of three more thrust before I'm spilling inside her, her back bowing off the bed with her own climax triggering mine. 

I fall over her, in exhaustion at the energy just used, I pant into her ear as she holds me, close. Slowing roll off as our heart rates return to normal.

She moves to cuddle me close kissing my neck “ You known I don't have many high necked dresses” 

I laugh breathy at that kissing her head “ No? A pity you’ll have to wear your leathers” 

She chuckles against me, “ Yes what a pity” I roll us over getting more comfortable behind her. 

“ I was exhausted before I came in here, I doubt I have another round this night love” 

I see her smile kissing my hand “ It's fine, love I had my fill with that clever tongue first, sleep, will play again in the morning” 

I vaguely feel her get up at some point, no doubt to use the bathroom and clean up. I'm too tired to look for her in the dark, exhaustion finally taking over, the last thing I feel is her warm body pressed behind mine. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

When next I wake it is to soft kisses, traveling down my stomach, I roll away from her, hearing her laugh.

“ Still too tired, I could have swore I felt a knife against my back”

I snort at that “ A knife ?” She laughs again 

“ Mabey a dagger” I laugh at that, she moves closer again kissing my shoulder, moving lower following the path her hands had been mapping.

I pull her arm around me thrust her on top of me in one quick motion.

“We really can't “ I state again kissing her lips 

“That's not the move to use to stop me” She smiles, rubbing against me slowly, as she kisses her way down my neck, sucking slightly, marking me.

“No, just restrain yourself” I state as my arms halt her movements, against me.

She chuckles against my neck,sucking a little harder before releasing me with a bite “I could get out” she breathes lowly. 

“I, but not of this” I roll us over pinning he'd beneath me, causing her to pout, “Can't you hear that? the castle awake, I want to, believe me, but we can't”

“I brought clothes !, I'm not an idiot”

“No! “ I smile pecking her lips “ Just loud” 

She snorts “ Your one to talk”

“I'm not, which is why we can't,” I kiss her easily, a move she deepens, with a swift lick of her tongue biting my lip, till I open to her.

My cock grows harder against her core, causing her to moan. It’s a blessing and a curse that the door opens, revealing my brother in the entry, mouth agape in shock. 

I pounce off her, lifting the cover to, shield her from my brother's view.

“What? What is happening I, I ,I” He blinks in shock stuttering while still frozen in the doorway. 

I see people walking past, Sep ducks under the cover hiding from view “Robb shut the door,” My voice wakes him from his stupor, shutting the door with an easy push.

“Not with you inside, brother ” I huff out while Sep chuckles beside me, coming out from her hiding spot. Her breast and lower body are covered from view, but you can tell she very much naked underneath.

“ Did you need something Robb, I'm afraid where a bit indecent right now, to chat ” I turn from her smiling face back to Robb, whose mouth is now agape once more, eyes shifting between us, no doubt trying to control the urge to take in her form. 

“Brother!” I yell, rising from the bed, he turns his back, at the sight of my nakedness. I dress quickly, pulling my pants back on “ Is there something you need”

“ah, ah yes,” He shakes his head glancing to the side, I throw my shirt at Sep, she reaches for it quickly, Robb closes his eyes, facing the door as she dresses.

“ There better ?” She questions 

“ Um yer, sorry for interrupting, not that I knew there was something to interrupt” He mutters, turning back to us hands raised.

“ I came to check if you were ready for the hunt, you ah missed morning meal,” He rubs his neck, face redding, as Sep stands, showing off her legs. His eyes snap back to me as I move to stand closer before him, in a protective stance.

“Ah plus fathers want to speak to you, a raven came, the grain shipments have arrived at White harbor” He stutters out.

Sep dresses quietly behind me, dressing in leather pants and a vest, stealing my shirt for the day as she adds her coat to the outfit, she looks every inch a warrior lady.

“ Why didn't you tell me?” Robb whispers closer to my ear, I snap my eyes back to him.

“You know, why” He huffs at that anger towards my secrets, 

“ I'm going to go” 

“ Can you wait a moment Robb, we're up earlier than intend, there's too many people about now, could you escort us to the hall, it should be less conspicuous then” She smiles, sweetly towards him. 

Robb nods, in acceptance, still there's a hard look upon his face Indicating he's not completely happy with the agreement,nevertheless he's always a gentleman . 

I dress quickly in northern leathers, strapping longclaw, my Valyrian sword and coat back in place, upon my shoulders and hip. As Sep fixes her hair back into a tight bun, she straps her daggers and hidden knives back upon her person completely her look of a warrior women, minus the sword.

We walk in silence moving towards the hall with Persephone on Robb’s arm and me a few steps behind as property demands. Robbs' eyes glanced into mine a slight squint and turn of his head indicating we will talk later, away from Sep. I nod sighing, well this will be an interesting day.


	10. Daenerys

Daenerys

 

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, seeing nothing of the Princess, my brother claimed me to be. No, I saw nothing more than a girl of 15 years, a beggar, on the run, not a Queen or Princess, there was nothing truly special about me. I might have been blessed with the silver hair and purple eyes of old Valyria, yet nothing else really to indicate my royal birth. I study my face more closely, maybe I just wasn't seeing it, though there was a fineness to my high cheekbones and full lips on closer inspection, perhaps hinting towards my noble birth.

I was a beautiful sight, young still, there was a childlike element, still in place, not yet lost in my growing age. I sign once, pulling myself from my musing, for tonight I was going to be sold like a common broodmare to a Khal of the Great grass sea. All my life I thought I would marry Viserys when I came of age.

For that was the customs of the Targaryens, they married brother to sister for centuries, all the way back to the time of the conquer Aegon Targaryen the man who first ruled Westeros, along with his sister wives, Rhaenys and Visenya. The line must be kept pure, Viserys had told me a thousand time, ours was kings blood, the golden blood of old Valyria, the dragon blood. Yet now I was to be sold to a barbarian and used as nothing more than a maid to ride and bear children, all for Viserys continued schemes to return us to our home and thrones. 

The Red Keep, the Iron Throne, all places I had never been or seen they meant little more to me than Casterly Rock or the Eyrie, a land, a home I had never known. It was all gone from us, taken before our eyes as my mother birthed me. It was all my fault Viserys would spit, that I wasn't born sooner to marry Rhaegar or the dirty whore of our aunt Morgan who simply couldn't do as she was told. I always wished I could spit back that, perhaps he should of been born a girl too, but after the first time I remained meek, silent to scared to wake the dragon as Viserys called it. 

The bruisers and scars so often marked upon my skin all came from my brothers hand, each done in rage, whenever i woke the dragon. Years of running from the usurper's assassins and begging for scraps had turned him from the brother I once knew into a cold, and cruel man, prone to fits of violence and rants.

Though life did get better, three years back when a secret supporter from across the sea took us in, feeding, clothing and protecting us, never once asking for anything in return. Life was good I was happy behind that yellow door, as happy as I was once behind a red one as child protected my Willem Darry the last loyal protector we truly had from across the sea at the time, once he died we, were alone once more. Betrayed by the very people we thought cared for us, the servants left stealing our money and any items of value they could find. Viserys managed to hide some, keeping it close until we had to part from that as, well. My mother's crown and ring, my fathers Valyrian sword all gone so we might eat, the merchants of the free cities were kind for a time. Happy to aid the last Targaryens, until that grew tedious and pointless the longer the usurper stayed on the throne, the more our value diminished. 

To all except one it seemed though Viserys had to go and ruin it, a year back, whoever they were, learned of his cruelty towards me and the staff paid to protect, teach and feed us. He raped a girl, hit children and worse things I'm sure, until he was ordered to leave, a warning ringing clear from the letter written in our protector's hand said in finality from the guard's lips. I could stay, continue to be raised in finery and wealth, but my brother would leave or be killed upon their arrival in a moon's turn, I knew his cruelty, I knew the hardness of the life outside the yellow door. Begging on the street for food, yet I left with him, like a foolish girl, clinging to the last piece of family I had, it was a pity, it turned out family was protecting me all along, hidden behind the secret identity was my unseen cousin, the daughter of my aunt Morgana, Persephone Targaryen or Batheroen depending on who you spoke to.

Yet we did got lucky the second time around, upon the street, money in hand taken from the home with the yellow door, we managed to get by for a month just fine. Then magister Illyrio found us and took us in, a man who was a dealer in spices, gemstones, dragonbone and other, less savory things. He was rumored to have friends within all the Nine Free cities and beyond, even in Vaes Dothrak and the fabled lands beside the Jade Sea, though it was said he’d never had a friend he wouldn’t cheerfully sell for the right price. A worrying thing, at first, yet one proved true, once my engagement no? abduction no ? marriage was planned, I was sold like all things, a trade for an army, one my brother sort to use. 

Foolish of me and stupid of him, not that I would ever question his choices, to broken from years of silence. I glance around my room, looking for any hidden spy's as I reach for my hidden letter, within the folds of my mirror. Lady Persephone of house Baratheon and Targaryen, my cousin and would be saviour perhaps, if I had given her the chance.

Viserys slams into the room then, carrying a dress and smiling smugly, he let’s maid’s in behind him carrying buckets of steaming water. I shove the letter in a book nearby praying he didn't notice it. 

He walks towards me as I come to stand, he holds out the garments for me to inspect “ This is a beauty, sweet sister, come, touch it” 

I follow his instructions caressing the smooth cloth, so light is the material it seems to run along my fingers like water. I pull my hand away “Is it for me to wear tonight?”

“Yes, another gift from, the Magister Illyrio,” Viserys says, smiling, he's in a good mood tonight thankfully “The colour will bring out the violet in your eyes, he says you shall have gold as well befitting a Princess” A Princess I mutter inside, is that who I am?

“Why does he give us so much?” I can't help but ask “What does he want in return for all this generosity. Last time ?” 

He hits me across the face at that “Don’t mention the last time !” He shrieks towards me arm still raised, ready to strike if I speak out, I cup my cheek lowering my eyes to the ground meekly.

I hear Viserys sigh, he raises my face back to his, holding my chin too tightly within his grasp, as he speaks “Illyrio is no fool, the magister knowns, that I will not forget my friends when I come into my throne” I say nothing as he pushes me back slightly, releasing my jaw.

“Prepare to bathe sister, be sure to scrub yourself clean of the smell of stables, the Khal has bedded a thousand women who smell like horses, tonight he looks for a different sort of mount.”

He states studying me critically after that “ You still slouch. Straighten yourself, let them know you have a woman's body now.”

He drops my dress on the last words taking in my form, brushing my breast and nipples as he talks “ You will not fail me tonight, if you do, it will go bad for you. You don’t want to wake the dragon?” his fingers twist too hard, causing me to yelp out in pain, I try to pull away but he just moves closer twisting harder “Do you ?”

“No” I let out meekly, lowing my eyes from his, in surrender.

“Good” he kisses my brow, so sweetly, one could be fooled, into thinking it was a loving gesture. “When they write the history of my reign, sweet sister, they will say it began today”

He leaves at that walking to the door in long strides, I’m alone once more, with naught but my thoughts, I turn entering the boiling bath water, not hearing the cries of the maids that it's too hot, for I feel nothing but a welcoming warmth. 

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

I wanted to run and hide, flee into the streets of the Pentos and to the house with the yellow door once more. She would send help like she promised my dear cousin, a woman I did not yet know. Continued to reach out trying to save me from my weakness towards Viserys, staying by his side even though he didn't deserve it. But I don’t I’m frozen in place letting things happen to me again, things I don't want, things I could stop, if only I was stronger I think. 

I anxiously, turn and look towards the man Viserys hoped would ask to wed me before the night was done. The maid spoke true as I bathed earlier, Khal Drogo was a sight to behold, a head taller than the tallest man in the room, yet somehow light on his feet as he walked. He was younger than I thought too, no more than perhaps thirty, his skin was different as well, coloured to the look of polished copper and he had a thick mustache bound with gold and bronze bells. Magister Illyrio goes to make his submissions, to ensure continued peace between the tribe and city.

My brother grabs my form arm as Illyrio waddles over to the Khal, his finger’s growing so tight they hurt “Do you see his braid sweet sister ?” I nod gulping, continuing to take him in. 

Drogo’s braid is black as midnight and laden heavy with scented oil, that walfe through the air as we wait. The bells appear to be weaved in there as well, ringing softly with each step. The braid is longer than even my hair, reaching well below his belt and buttocks, so long it brushes the back of his thighs.

“You see how long it is ?” Viserys says “When Dothraki are defeated in combat, they cut off their braids in disgrace, so the world will know their shame, Khal Drogo has never lost a fight and you will be his queen”

I walk towards him then, he takes me in, for all of 5 minutes before nodding and riding off making his way back to his tent and men.

“Where is he going?” Viserys yells out, coming towards me and Illyrio “Did he like her?”

“Trust me, my Prince, if he didn’t like her we would know” Illyrio laughs heartily shaking his fat rolls “He has accepted the wedding will go on as planned.”

We turn and begin to walk back into the maze my heart rate is beating fast as I panic over what to do. Viserys hurts me sometimes but he never frightens me, not like that man does. I don't have a way out, I already know, yet I try and beg my brother

“I don’t want to be his Queen” I hear myself say in a small thin voice “ Please brother please don’t make me. I want to go home”

“Home!” He turns of me, fury in his eyes and voice “ How are we to go home, sweet sister, they took it from us !” 

I pull back meekly once more losing my strength to stand up against him even slightly “So how are we to go home !” He asks again grabbing onto me, in a bruising grip, looking down upon me in such growing fury waiting for my answer

I swallow “I don’t know” tears falling down my face now, in fear and pain, I’ve woken the dragon.

“I do,” He says so sharply I flinch “We go with an army at our back and blood in our hearts, that how we go home”

I look down away from his burning gaze “I would let his whole khalasar fuck you, if need be, sweet sister, all forty thousand men and their horses too if that what it took to get me my army. Be grateful it’s only Drogo, I’m selling you to.” He finishes cruelly wiping my tears, away before smiling and joining IIlyrio back in conversation.

I follow silently, praying the whole time for a saviour to come, for surely I can’t save myself to weak and broken, to even try and win against my brother. Still, I think as I stare upon his back of Persephone words, he was no dragon she said, but I could be, couldn’t I if only I could find my strength.


	11. bran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a filler chapter, but needed and sorry for the multiple updates of the same thing if anyone was trying to read it, it kept loading wrong, anyway enjoy :)

The hunt left at dawn, I heard the king say he wished for wild boar at the final feast tonight, for tomorrow they would leave to head south. It wasn’t really fair that I didn’t get to go along, for Robb had been allowed alongside the king's son Prince Joffrey. Uncle Benjen, Jor, Theon Greyjoy, Ser Rodrik, and even the queen’s funny little brother had all been allowed to attend. I waved to them as each passed me by, trying to smile though I was jealous. If tomorrow I was allowed to ride a horse not a pony all the way to Kings Landings then why couldn’t I go on a hunt with my father and brother, I wouldn’t see Robb much after that, so far away ruling the North he would be.

I sigh kicking the dirt as I go looking for my other family members who had been left behind like me. Jon was nowhere to be found, so often gone and busy these days to ever have any time for me. I missed him loads, he knew everything about dragons and the wild things of the North, telling me the best stories late into the night. There was always Rickon but he was a baby and not very useful yet, he had no stories and couldn’t train or climb for he was still too small. I could go to the girls, but they were girls even, Arya, I didn’t want to deal with all that, dresses and manners nonsense.

For days I had looked forward to leaving but now as the week drew to an end I felt lost, Winterfell was the only home I had ever known, mother was here, my brothers were here and I would leave with only half of my family. Going to a new place, one I had always dreamed of, for I wanted to be a knight a fierce protector of the people like good King Jon Stark or Damon the Dragon Knight.

I was so excited when the King brought three of his Kingsguard with him, they were fascinating. First there was Ser Boros a bald man with a jowly face, secondly came Ser Meryn he had such droopy eyes and an odd coloured beard tinted like rust. Lastly, there was Ser Jaime Lannister he was my favorite, he looked more like the knights from the stories, handsome, strong and dressed in gold he was a sight to been seen. I had tried to follow them around but both Robb and Jon kept me away saying Ser Jamie was a kingslayer and not well liked or trusted, while the other two were simply mean men, who thought themselves above us.

It was a bit disappointing, but Art and Waters two of my father guards, said when I went to the Red Keep, I would meet the very best of the bunch. For waiting within its wall would be the greatest Kingsguard alive Ser Barristan Selmy, Barristan the Bold, he was the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and a more welcoming sort, or so they said. I had been marking the days ever since eager to meet him, I hoped to beg him to let me become his squire I was young still at only 10, but I knew it was a surefire way to becoming a knight faster.

 

I grew sad once more thinking about leaving, my tears almost starting to come once more as I looked around the courtyard becoming filled with my families things. I decided to run to the Godswoods with my wolf pup before anybody could see me cry, for I was a Stark of Winterfell and a Northmen, we weren't the kind to cry over such small things and I couldn't very well let anyone think me more southerner before I even left the North. I ended up staying within the god's woods for the rest of the morning spending the hours calming myself with the distraction of my wolf pup, trying to teach him the game of throwing and catching with the use of a stick. But I did quickly discover that he had little interest in learning it, even though I was sure he understood every word I said, he would simply look at me with boredom moving back and forth around me in a cage like dance of entrapment even though we were in the wide open air of the woods. 

I couldn't help but start to think he was stupid or at the very least too loyal, for he remained at my side even without orders, the silly wolf pup.

 

Maybe he wouldn’t learn anything until I gave him a name, I thought, for the last 4 week I had tried to decide on a name but nothing seemed to fit. Robb called his Greywind because he ran so fast. Sansa had named her’s Lady, and Arya named hers after some old warrior queen from the songs, and of course, little Rickon had taken to calling his Shaggydog. Which I thought was pretty stupid, Jon’s was the best naming his Ghost, for his white fur and silent nature, a name I wished I had thought of first even though mines wasn't white.

I finally grow tired of the sick game and decide to go climbing, I hadn’t been up to the broken tower for weeks, with everything happening tomorrow this would be my last chance.

 

 

I shimmied up the tower following the familiar path up the stone, mother was always afraid I would fall, but I was at home here, amongst the stone, wood, and clouds. I continue to climb faster looking down below, with only one hand hanging on, my wolf isn’t happy about that pacing back and forth in worry. I smile at that he’s as bad as mother, I laugh out loud climbing faster to the window, it a tricky move from there, but one I knew well. I reach the window preparing the move when I hear them, two people making weird noises like the horse’s do sometimes out in fields, there moving like them to, I look closer confused when they shift revealing their faces. It’s the Queen and her brother doing something I thought only animals did.

“Stop! Stop! “ the queen yells, pushing her brother off as she spots me, Jamie, rushes up as I go to move, wanting to be far away from there angry faces as I can because now I am becoming terrified, thinking I've somehow done something wrong, I knew I shouldn't be climbing but surely they wouldn't care, they weren't my parents, after all, we weren't even related.

He grabs me as I turn. “Ay easy there be a good lad, what are you doing up here ?..... climbing? ”

I nod pulling away slightly as his hold becomes tighter around the neck from my shirt.

“Here saw us,!” the queens yells out, holding her dress together “Jamie he saw us!”

“I know !......... well the things I do for love” He lets go of me then, turning slightly, I feel a strong push and I’m flying from the window, screaming before the world goes black.

Somewhere off in the distance a wolf howls, alerting a girl with dragon blood of a wolf in danger. Persephone moves towards the sound, spotting a boy falling from a window at lightning speed. It takes a moment, a flash of thought, an ingenious move as her companion Myra Stone throws out her whip, throwing it over a broken stone and around the boy just in time to catch him before he hits the ground too hard. 

He appears fine as they check him over, no bleeding from the head or back after the violent hit still taken against his body as he landed on snow and stone covered ground. The girls note the boys Direwolf pacing about in agitation stopping every few steps to lick the boys face howling a broken song every few moments between his loving licks and on edged steps.

Neither girl knows what to do to calm the wolf or wake the boy. So they leave carrying him to the caretaker of Winterfell Maester Luwin, pity for the girls in there focus on the boy and rush to help him neither see the Lannister twins leaving the broken tower through the half propped door, the true culprits of this tragedy.


	12. Robb

It should be a fun hunt, a goodbye for my father and his sons but Jon isn't here and Bran and Rickon are thought to young to hunt for wild boar. Jon my brother, practically my twin I never thought he would keep secrets from me, not the kind so big they could endanger us if anyone found out. I’m angry and jealous I will admit it, for only this morning I was told, I might marry Persephone one day, or so my mother believed. I wanted her, for the bassist of reasons I’ll admit that to myself as well, she was so beautiful, with her light blue eyes, silver hair and Valyrian looks she would be a grand prize on my arm, one many would curse me for. I liked her as well, there was iron and strength in her, she was a fighter and smart, all things that would fit into the North making us grow stronger, making me stronger too.

though it all meant nothing now, because of Jon he had done the one thing I thought him incapable of doing bedding a princess, bedding anyone really, often so worried about fathering a bastard to try with any girls. I guess his time with the wildlings was changing him in ways I had yet to even discover, I knew about Ygritte his wildling woman, still, it wasn't the same as a lady, a princess of noble birth. 

I shake my head trying to focus on the hunt, still, the image wouldn’t leave my head or Jon’s words on the matter. He stated it so plainly like speaking about the direwolves speedy growth, not a women’s love. Simply explaining how he wasn't in love with her, though he did love her in a very different way. I couldn't believe him one does not see a women as a sister, friend, lover and partner, without been in love with them “We are to each other whatever the other needs in the moment, or all things wrapped into one, that’s love, just not the kind your use to, brother”

Indeed brother not normal at all and not true I’m sure, he would gut any man who tried to take her, same as she with every woman who tired with him, they were just fooling themselves and me.

“Your quite son? Are we boring you” My father speaks up next to me, I didn't even notice him moving away from the King, been so distracted on a hunt was a dangerous thing, one could lose their head if not careful?

“No sorry, just thinking” I state back evenly, shaking my head trying to regain my focus, I move the horse forward following my father's path of watching the kings back, instead of truly hunting. “About what mother told me this morning,” I add on, trying to lose his leering gaze.

“Do I have to guess ?” He almost jokes smiling slightly before turning from me completely. I ride up closer so we might speak easier, no time like the present to end an engagement or the notion of one, I won’t have a lady my brother bedded, no matter how beautiful and powerful she may be. 

“No,” I smile, looking down sheepishly, it’s still awkward to talk about such things, with my father, “ Mother, she, a, mentioned a marriage with the Lady Baratheon,”

“Ah, I see” He smiles knowingly, probably drawn to her beauty too.

“ Oh, it’s not what you think,” I mutter blushing like a green boy before I clear my voice, he stops our horses at that turning to look at me.

“She would make a fine bride, I’m sure and she is beautiful but, I think It would be unwise, to enter into a southern marriage when there is no current need to, The partnership is firm, through her and Jon, so in my opinion, I should marry into one of the northern house, something which should keep our bannermen happy and the North more connected.”

My father turns to look at me fully now, there's a look of pure pride etched on his face and ringing through his words “That a wise decision son, and has good merit, one I myself had yet to consider when we get back I’ll let your mother known,”

He smiles fully this time grasping me on the shoulder firmly “ Your going to be a good Lord my son” He rides off after, smile still in place as he goes to ride next to the king once more, answering his earlier call.

I smile at that feeling slightly guilty for the praise, considering it wasn’t even my idea, it came from Jon after I told him what my mother had said. He laughed and explained the bad merits of the notion of marrying south. For the North was built stronger than all the other kingdoms combined, due to the pure loyalty our banner showed. A loyalty we might lose if they marry within the North and we only marry south. Still, as my brother always did say he comes up with the ideas and I see them through, we all have our strengths and when his supposed war comes I’ll be the best assert and him just another warrior. I smile at that losing some of my anger towards him, Jon is Jon, so I’ll let it be even if I think they're both mad.

A rider comes speeding towards us then, causing the King to curse towards him annoyed at scaring away the deer. He apologizes puffing from his exertion, in need of breath after riding so hard and far. It’s a moment a breath before my world is broken.

“Bran fell from the broken tower”, “Won't wake up?” What does he mean won’t wake up? “Injured his back mabey?” Bran my little brother fell from the broken tower, how? Why I think, Bran never falls, not once, he was made to be in the sky, we all knew it, yet he did fall, he fell and hurt himself quite badly, if what the man says is true.

Father rushes away, not even waiting for the Kings leave, to panicked to care about such things, neither am I, as I rush behind him, pushing my horse as fast as I can, without breaking her back or legs upon the uneven ground of the woods.

I don’t even remember leaving the saddle or walking the stairs, I simply go from the woods to the room housing my broken brother, listening as Maester Luwin and father talk.

“The little lord was lucky, Lady Myra Stone managed to catch him, with her wip, stopping his fall enough to save him from certain death.”

My father turns hugging her in, a strange show of emotion “Thank you, thank you for saving my son” she hugs him awkwardly back.

“I did what I could my Lord, I’m sorry” She stutters, tears in her eyes.

“Sorry,” I ask, flipping my eyes back and forth between my brother's body, father’s face and her own sorrow filled one.

“Yes he” she, starts and stops, before gesturing back to Maester Luwin who looks down in sorrow 

“It appears he landed on a rock, my Lord, I do not yet know if he will walk again”

No, I think “He wanted to be a knight, he has to walk”I stupidly bark out, as if that will change anything.

“I known my Lord, I’m sorry I will know more when he wakes” Maester Luwin speaks dully, his own face etched in pain and sorrow.

“When he wakes? you didn’t give him something ” My father asks, as he walked into the room, now reaching for Bran’s still hand as my mother cries softly on the opposite side

“No my Lord, he appears to be fine, no injury on the head, but the boy will not wake I have tried many things, to rouse him, but nothing has worked, will just have to give him, time to come to.” Maester Luwin finishes in the same tone as before, eyes scanning ours in pity as the tears begin to fall, from, myself and siblings eyes. 

I see Arya clinging to Jon, and Rickon to Sansa, so I move towards her and our baby brother, they would need me the most, Arya will do fine in Jon's arms. 

Everyone else leaves the room, as we all nod in acceptance, at Luwins words, each knowing it’s out of our hands for now. Time seems to move slowly as I stare at my broken brother, wishing for him to wake, it’s one maybe two hours later that father takes his children to go and pray in the godswoods. We each cry silently as we stare upon the weirwood tree with bleeding eyes, each hoping the gods answers our prayers to save our little brother. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

I don't know why I came here to my brother door, it's late and the trauma of the day has worn us all down, yet I stay here outside his door, I need him, not an easy thing to say, yet I do. I move to knock then stop I've never needed to before and despite the new change in my knowledge, I doubt he would have company tonight.

I open the door and am instantly proven wrong, there within Jon’s room is Persephone standing behind Jon's hunched frame as he stares at the fire rubbing his shoulders in a tender embrace. 

I can't help the rage that snaps from me “ Our brother lays dying and your here sleeping with this woman” 

His head snaps to me, his eyes blaze so dark in rage they look black “ I know where our brother is”.

I move closer inside the room shutting the door, as Jon comes to stand before me “how many times must I explain this to you brother, comfort is not sex, that's what this is comfort” 

“ your fooling yourself” I snap back 

“ no, I'm not, but I'll explain it to you again, sex is the smallest part of our relationship, it’s used to scratch an inch or as an outlet, that's all, everything is emotional,”

I roll my eyes, snorting out in disbelief “ how is that even possible, look at her, what kind of emotional support do you need ?”

His rage is up as he stares me down “You have no idea what's it's like, within my head, you think nothing is going on when I'm sitting there brooding, as you say, it's nothing but an endless stream of thoughts, I need someone to stop the noise, that what she does,” he points to Persephone 

“ she knows me and understands when I need to be left in silence and when I need to be pulled from my own head, that's our relationship friendship, family, love and sometimes something else but always at the heart of it is a comfort of knowing that we understand each other” 

I let It sink in a moment understanding for the first the heart of there relationship, Jon steps back, temperament cooling as Persephone specks from behind him, having moved to sit in a chair by the fire as we fought.

“ Jon” she nods towards the chair, a clear order by the tone of her voice, one he moves to follows letting lose as weary sigh as he turns from me 

“ Robb why don't you join us” she adds on as I stand unmoving from my spot by the door.

“No I'm in no mood for company” I answer back my tone still snappish, towards them, she only smiles in peace, lightly her tone towards me. 

“No your in a mood for a fight, but as that is done, why don't you join us, sit in silence, drink, or talk, whatever you need, we're here” 

I can't help but nod in acceptance, so desperate for someone to help fill the silence of my worried mind. I move from my spot by the door coming to sit in the chair Persephone, vacated from, having moved to sit in Jon's lap. He hugs her close taking a physical comfort I can't help but be jealous I'm missing. 

She pours us all a drink of ale, one we all down quickly before repeating the process at least three more times before we nurse the fifth in silence. It’s at least 15 minutes before I speak again staring at the fire same as Jon lost in thoughts of our baby brother.

“Bran, never falls” I say out loud breaking the silence of our joint solitude, my tone full of sorrow and contemplation.

Jon's looks over at me, his eyes are still dark, a black mixed to look almost like a purple opal, there full of sorrow too like my own, yet there's a rage shining through as well one I don't quite feel yet.

“No, he was always sure-footed before” his responsive is said in a monotone, “ Still we all fall sometimes”

I let it sit within my mind for a moment before I reject it completely, Bran never falls, he learned to climb before he could walk. I shake my head 

“No, I think he was pushed there no other explanation”

Jon's eyes grow sharper, turning a darker shade of black in rage, before Persephone seems to soothe him, stopping his rage in its tracks with a gentle rub of her hand along his back. 

He coincides to a softer response of “ Maybe” thinking it over calmer than before, my own mind follows a similar path, soothed by the ale and Jon stoic presence. 

“ Yer maybe, but what if he was, what would we do” I ponder back out loud letting lose the most dangerous of my thoughts  
Jon’s and Persephone eyes snap back to me in joint fury at the notion of Bran been hurt on purposes, his tone becomes as immovable as winter once more as he speaks towards my own fury filled face.

“Well brother we would live out your house words”

I turn my head in slight confusion, causing him face to become as hard as his tone, as he speaks the truest words ever said by a Stark of Winterfell 

“winter is coming, It's coming for them all” 

I smile back a simple aye leavening my lips as I bind myself alongside Jon in his words of retribution. It’s a promise said within the childhood room of our home, yet carries the weight of a thousand Starks who laid down a similar promise of retribution to any who may have wished our family harm. As our father said winter comes for us all and only the Starks knew how to weather such storms, for we are the wolves in the night howling at the sky.


	13. Cat

This is all my fault, my broken son, all this horror and pain, because of me, he sits there frozen in sleep for weeks, because of me I whisper. I feed him as if he was a newborn at the breast once more, not my special boy, my raven-haired son, the fearless one who wished to be a knight. I brought all this horror down upon him, just because I couldn't keep my promise to the gods.10 years ago I prayed to the seven gods of Westeros wishing for something terrible to happen, praying for a child to die, a bastard child but still a child of only three. 

He was my husbands only stain his second son, conceived and born mere months after the birth of mine. I prayed for Jon Snow to die and the stranger answered my call, he got sick with the pox’s and was certain to die, I remember it so clearly, making the pray wheel saying the same words for him as I do for Bran. I remember feeling like the worst woman in the world, for damning that poor innocent child to certain death all because I was jealous of his mother, a woman he didn't even know. 

So I had sat there by his bedside praying to all the 7 gods, to take it back, spare him and I’ll make things right, I’ll be a mother to him, name him Stark and be done with it.

And so the night had passed in the slow breath’s of a boy clinging to life, and as I placed the prey wheel above his bed a light so bright shone through the window casting it in a heavily glow, I knew the gods had answered my prayers then. Granting me once more my deepest wish for the boy did live and thrive, growing into a man of the people. A leader of men and warrior of the weak and broken, even though I couldn't keep my promise to gods, 

I just couldn't do it despite my pledge, despite my promise I had turned from him once more pulling away from a weak child the second he opened his eyes. They were so full of hope for a moment I almost gave in but I couldn't do it my heart ached but my mind remained the same, an unbreakable belief having been raised to hate and fear the nature of bastards. So I turned from him with the hardened face of a cruel women closing any hope of ever becoming a mother to this all but orphaned boy. In truth, it was the eyes always those damn eyes, the moment I saw those stranger's eyes looking up at me, a grey so dark and light at once I could never look long. I couldn't do it, to jealousy and fearful of his beautiful mother to ever love that motherless child, a child I hoped to kill once, so the gods made to punish me now, coming for there payment after all these years.

I move to make the pray wheel fast, my tears staining it, praying to all 7 goods once more, to take someone else, anyone else. Let it be the bastard or myself, I didn't care, just please let him wake, let him live, so he may have children and become a knight. Please save my son , i yell throughout the chamber, please, he’s only a boy.

I swear for a moment, i hear a voice echo around me, “So was my son, sister” I freeze looking around me for the culprit of the voice but there's no one only the howling of Direwolves, outside the window. I slam it shut in fear and pain wanting it all to stop,i want Bran to wake, i want my family together, i want the gods to save my son. I hear it again that voice, a whisper in my ear meant to drive me mad “ Payment must me made, sister, you wished to kill my child, i might claim yours in his place”

No i scream, no i won't let you no, Ned finds me there shielding our sons body with my own tears staining the bedding as i scream you can't take him, you can't over and over.

He soothes me softly, telling me to sleep, in his arms as i fight to stay with my child. I hear the voice once more in my mind or ear who's to say as i drift to sleep, it’s a musical sound now “I would never harm, a child, least of all family. Your son is safe, from me at least, best repay your gods some other way lady Stark or they may unleash a she-wolf upon you once more, or worse a dragon in wolves clothing” I drift off in peace after that forgetting come moring the torment afflicted by the gods, and yet worse still I forget the warning in the she wolf's words.


	14. Jon

I slam a book closed cursing to myself, nothing, there was nothing inside these books to help Bran. 4 weeks, it's been 4 weeks since he fell from the tower, and he still hadn’t woken, all these books, on healing and yet I couldn’t find a thing. I sigh loudly looking towards Persephone, she’s silently sitting by the window staring out.

“Your quite,” I say to her softly, pulling her from her thoughts as I open another book, one written in the hand of a healer from Meereen, a place known for sorcery and tricks.

“Well you can’t very well plot a murder out loud” she states her tone so even my head snaps up, in worry. 

“What ?” she laughs 

“Joke”

“It’s hard to tell with you sometimes” I rub my face tiredness seeping into me at this pointless quest, I wish to help my brother, but it’s starting to feel like insanity repeating the same task over and over hoping for a different result.

“Your one to talk, so often stone-faced I can’t get a read on you” she banters back, smiling softly before turning to look out the window once more, sighing a few times, on the intake of her breaths.

“What’s the matter?” I ask again openly, focusing on her fully now as I drink from my glass of ale, trying to study her body language, as I watch, looking for a hint to suggest her current state of thought.

“Nothing of great importance to you right now” she smiles sadly, her eyes looking lost as she glances my way before focusing them back outside, she speaks to the wind now as she continues on softly “Focus on your brother my mind is fine”

“It can wait a moment!........ I needed a break, let me help!” I try and sound as open as I can, as I speak to her back softly, not wishing to break the spell, of the rooms soft mood, lets she retreat into herself once more.

“I was thinking about my mother,” Her eyes are sad as is her voice dripped in sorrow as she turns fully towards me, moving to hug her legs.

“you known, I don’t really remember her anymore........ what kind of daughter forgets her own mother? ”

She shakes her head, in a mixture of sadness and pain, angry at herself for something she can’t change. I see a few tears lightly falling, I wish for nothing more than to go to her, add some physical warmth to the words spoken in my soothing tone but I know how she hates that, it makes her feel weak, somehow, to accept such comfort.

“One who lost her very young” I answer back. 

She looks down now, resting her face on her knees“ I suppose I shouldn't complain I at least have something, unlike you”

I wave my hand across me wiping her comment away “ Pain is pain”

She nods, along staring at the window again, we sit in silence for some time each thinking about the ones will never known. 

“you know I don't even know if they're real? ........The memories I do have!........No one talks about her, she just some forgotten thing, another woman who died before her time” she mutters against her legs.

“Like mine, too then, ”I say feeling guilty, “I killed my mother coming into this world, a price too high to pay”

I glance up from my drink to find a reflection of my own face looking back at me pity, sadness, a hint of self-hate all mixed together, we must appear quite broken to an outsider anyway, though such conversation does allow such inner reflection.

 

“It wasn't your fault” I wave away her comment again, not wishing to discuss such a thing, even with her, she smiles sadly, as she changes the conversation.

“Do you ever wonder what we would be like had they raised us? ...........Do you think we’d be happier? ......... kinder perhaps, maybe the world wouldn’t seem so broken all the time”.

I take a moment to think it over as she wipes her face in the window, clearing it of tears before, coming to sit on the daybed beside me, relaxing in my presence, pulled somewhat from her sorrow, by my own.

“I don’t know!.......It would've been nice to know a mother’s love, to meet her even once” I finally say, sipping my drink. “I guess will never know?” 

“I guess not, a question for philosophers than” She smiles pouring herself some wine, the sorrow gone completely then, distracted from it, by her pondering.

“What is, ”I ask, lightening my tone as I'm sucked into.

“Nature or nurture, how different could someone be if they were raised differently!......... with a mother’s love, without?” her head moves with her words a sign to show, me she’s thinking it over as she speaks. 

I join in as well as we drink, thinking it over once more before settling on a simple “I’m sure I would be”

She snorts at that her mind better suited for such things “I doubt it, I think we are, who we are, the way it comes about is the biggest change........ a killer is still a killer even if they are raised happy........... how or who they kill will perhaps change, but not them!”

I snort back shaking my head at that, “You don't think we would be different?........ That I wouldn't have been?....... Even if only one thing changed”

“Not really" she smiles shrugging as she pours herself some more wine, " I think you, would be you, even if we never meet, even if I had never been born.......I believe you wouldn’t change all that much” she deadpans back, drinking from her wine as it settles over me.

 

I snort “I would be if I was left alone to weather lady stark cruelty if I was forced to handle it without any kindness or positive comments to outway the bad...... I would have grown bitter, hateful and jealous, like most bastard sons of Lords.” I deadpan right back to her, my voice hard towards the notion of such a thing.

She hums “No!”

“No?” I look at her in shock, anger in the lines of my face now, how could she think that. A man was made from experiences, not a predetermined nature.

She smiles, a knowing look in her eyes thinking she figured it out “You wouldn't be, if you didn’t have me or your 4 friends to suck away her hate or build you back up when someone pushes you down, you would still have your father and siblings, you would find your strengths elsewhere!......... I think the North would be weaker as you would be sullen and quite instead of brooding and powerful.” she pauses letting me think on it for a moment more before continuing in the same sure voice.

“ Though I am sure the hate you would feel at been a bastard, would no doubt stop you from pursuing your true potential, like this time”

I can’t help but agree with her, as I take another drink, letting out a disbelieving laugh at the truth of her words “I would have joined the night's watch, no doubt like I wanted to when I was 5...... Before everything happened, I’d be the first ranger”

“Pfft please you would be lord commander within the first three years, once you stepped from your brother shadow!..... of that I’m sure, your true nature to inspire and lead would come out”

I huff at that “I pity the wildings in that life than”

She shrugs, downing her glass “ Who knows, Maybe, they were all meant to come through the wall, anyway? ........ I'm sure if you were always meant to lead them, you would somehow”

I roll my eyes, looking her over as she smiles, believing every word “Your faith in me astounds me!" I smile back "Yet you do paint a very different life, I don't think I would know much happiness”

“No, I don’t think so” We smile at each other “See how we're both been distracted, I needed that” she musically laughs out 

“What a philosophical questions, to tease me over?” I mutter while she continues to laughs 

“No a break, wait !”

I freeze in my action, reaching for a new book, having been refreshed from her distracting question like she said, ready to return to my quest of waking my brother.

“ Dream walking or green-seeing, it’s different in both cultures, yet similar?” She mutters out. 

“What?” I ask following her with my eyes as she grabs a thin book, laying it on the table, open to a chapter that explains the process.

We both read in silence taking it in, green-seeing or dream walking is the ability to witness and interact with events from the past, present and even future, if mixed with the ability of warging a person may be able to enter the mind of a human or animal in any time period, changing the time as they see, fit. Such abilities are rare and only thought to have happened combined once, in living memory. Dream walking was also said to be slightly different, than that experienced when green-seeing, as a person may become trapped in a dream-like trance, when a trauma or shocks force‘s the opening of their third eye, instead of a natural awakening. 

“Bran he’s dream walking” I stutter out, “Who, wrote it,?........there only a few pages!..... we need to know more”I flip the font of the book open,  
excitement taking over at the discovery.

One that's fades quickly as I see what lies on the front page, for there lies my true father's name, Rhaegar. He seemed to have made it as a quick gift for my mother, she must have liked the story’s about the old North, a new gift then!. A different piece added to the scattered image I have made of my parents over time. It's an unclear image due to the lack of knowledge I have about each of them, Sep pulls me from my lost musing.

“Oh” I hear her softly say, rubbing my arm in comfort, at the lost look upon my face and in my eyes, its one that always appears when I think too long on the strangers named my parents.

“You didn’t know?” I ask, my voice thick with emotion.

“No, i saw the side of it the other day, when we first came in here, I had the notion to glance over it before we left” I nod in acceptance closing the book, and looking for more within the same shelf, pushing aside my pain, intent on focusing on nothing but my brother.

“His blood doesn't match the power in yours, but he does have the blood of the first men, just like you, blood tainted with magic and power we don't understand anymore” Sep announces in continued thought. 

“For 4 weeks though?..... It’s a long time,” I ask glancing over the titles, pulling out anything I might think, will help.

“He might be, just that powerful who's to say,?.......It was awoken by trauma, there might not be a time limit” she breathes out flicking through, the books, lightly, looking for a hint of anything helpful, I come to join her back at the table.

“He could of warg into his wolfs mind as well,” I say, pausing her hand, as she reaches for a book on the subject, taking it into my own, she hummed once pondering it over.

“Maybe it's been, driven half mad trying to reach him”

“I should see if Robb will try, maybe it’s what he needs to wake up”

“What ?” she asks in confusion 

“A connection with a living thing” I ponder out, thinking it over, how best to approach such a thing. Robb ruins, my train of thought as he barges in.

“You sound mad brother” Robb states as he comes walking through the door, sweeping his eyes over the books, I laid on the table, I see Tyrion from my side-eye as he waddles in behind him.

“Well, It all sounds fascinating to me ” Tyrion states as he comes to sit beside Persephone, stealing the wine glass from her hand, filling it to the brim.

“You were listening outside the door !........For how long ? ” Persephone question them, though she’s looking at Tyrion only, clear annoyance on her face, a feeling I share, while, I stare at Robb, swatting his hands away, as he reaches for the books piled high upon the table.

“I only heard the end, Tyrion was already there when I walked up” Robb states freely, pissing me off as he throws a book onto the side table.

Sep raises her eyebrow towards Tyrion than “And how much did you hear?”

“Enough to peak my interest” Tyrion gestures mockingly, arms open in peace, before siping the rest of his wine.

Sep hums at that pure annoyance in her tone, yet I’m to busy flicking through a helpful book to listen to there continued conversation. Robb interrupts again placing his hand over the page I was reading.

“You Don't actually believe in this stuff” His tone indignant, no belief in his eyes or face.

“Yes” I state back, snorting “You really, think you don’t” 

He huffs right back staring me down, Robb has his lord face on now I think “No its stories made up for children”

“Hmm is that so? Wolf dreams brother”

“How....... you.....?” He stutters out, caught off guard

“Wolf dreams now that something one does not hear often”I turn sharply back to Tyrion forgetting he was there for a moment, as I battled wills with my brother, I turn to Sep as she sighs.

“He won’t tell” 

“Of course not, no one would care” He mocks out, typical Lannister again

“You have them too then?” Robb ask in question

“Yes it’s warging, now that's all cleared up!........ Help me or get out, I don’t need you sception weighing me down, if you have questions, read on,” I gesture towards the books.

“ I,.....I‘ll help....!” Robb nod’s a look of determination settling in as he comes to believe the impossible.

“I’ll help two!........I’ve never had the joy to read up on such a unique topic........plus I would like to read up, about such things before we travel for the wall and wilding camp,” Tyrion's smiles at me, Robb, looks between us, eyes hard no doubt not trusting a Lannister.

I don’t either but we have come to be friendly these last few weeks, sharing similar interests, that’s enough for now, so I hand him a pile of books as he settles in for the day.

“I would also like to hear what your brother has to say, once he wakes!....... if his mind is intact, we could very well learn who pushed him and why ?” Tyrion adds on, in an uncaring tone.

“Don’t start anything Tyrion,” Sep snaps hitting him with her book, as she reaches for another, “it will be a long day”. 

Robb eyes grew harder with hate as he muttered under his breath, focusing back at the task at hand. 

Before I can comment any further on why Tyrion thinks such a thing happened. A messenger arrives carrying a King summoners, ordering Persephone to come to the dining hall at once. 

“I’ll be along in a moment” She responds kindly to the messenger, he bows leaving, as she stands handing her book to Tyrion.

“Do you want me to come?” I vaguely hear Tyrion ask.

“No I’m sure it’s nothing that requires your clever talk.......I’ll be fine!........ help Jon and Robb, no one reads as fast as you”’

“True, I’m also cursed with the sharpest mind”

She kisses me on the check in passing as I read on, lost to my surroundings so caught up in the book I’m reading. I still softly hear her say she will be back shortly. How wrong we were.


	15. Art

I stood against the wall staring upon this false, fat King, I couldn't help the burning rage coarsening through me, as I looked upon the man who killed my closest friend. The Demon of the trident indeed, he was nothing now but a drunk, whoremonger who was touched with the same madness often found in Targaryens, he's hatred twisting him into nothing but a anger filled tyrant. I feel Ser Gerold Hightower, now known as Waters coming to stand beside me, we nod in welcome, moving further against the wall as Persephone walks in after him. Robert's face is red and stormy, bleeding hate as he stares upon her, she seems unaffected by it, no doubt use to such a thing.

She still a sight to be seen, even in leathers and pants, her royal and Valyrian breeding seeping through. Her hair is slightly down, pulled back by plats and a ponytail instead of a high bun, an act of rebellion from her. One Robert seems to zeros in on unhappily if his squinting eyes are any indication of his mood.

“He looks ready to murder her” Waters specks softly next to me “Should we do something?” 

I shake my head back “Will see how it plays out, she can handle herself” 

Waters nods “Maybe but Jon won't be happy if he hurts her”

“Neither will we” I mutter back, my tone becoming angry at the idea of standing still and stoic once more while a madman hurts a Targaryen woman.

We're cut off from our discussion as Robert booming voices breaks through the uncomfortable silence, Persephone is still looking at his chest an act of deference towards his kingship, one that does not seem to be working.

“Do, you know why you are here Dragonspawn?” Roberts cuts out, pure disgust lacing each word. As if he has a right to hate them anymore, the lying monster, got everything he wanted, except his lady love of course. Rhaegar was dead, Areys was dead and he was now King, what a twisted hot-headed, fool I think bitterly as I watch them.

I glance to Persephone, she shifting her hands, cupping her finger into a slight fist before breathing deeply when she glanced back up at the King. Her face is innocent, no trace of the anger towards his wording in her face now.

The tone is sweet and meek as well when she responds back,“ I do not your grace?”

Robert slams his hand to the table in fury, representing his house words perfectly in the moment “ Do not lie!..... You dragon bitch, do you see what this is? ” he spits out, holding up a raven scroll.

Persephone glances towards me and Waters, a look of worry in her face, I go to move intent on standing close to her, hoping to ease the feelings of panic towards the situation she’s currently tapped in. 

Waters grabs my arm stopping me “ We can't be seen, she knows where here!....... That has to be enough for now, unless it gets worse, then will jump in ” He harshly whispers to me, I yank my arm back, moving back to my place against the wall shadowed in unseeing darkness.

I see her swallow, eyes half closed, as she looks towards the ground, “I believe it is a Raven scroll?...... Your grace” she states eyes never leaving the spot on the ground “ Though I don't know what that has to do with me?”

Her tone is meek at first, though she adds a taste of defiance in the end, hitting at what she thinks about Roberts stupid question, with her harder tone. I’m honestly shocked to see him notice such a thing. 

He throws the scroll towards her, hitting her square in the chest, "Go on !........ Read it!...... And don't think I don't know what your doing........ The hair! your tone! these acts!” 

Persephone bends down picking up the scroll, while Robert drink deeply, smashing the glass back down as he adds on in a fury laced voice “ You dare think you can start a rebellion, in my country”

she freezes slightly, at that eyes flashing towards the King in shock, one she can't hide. I look to Waters trying to decide the best course of action if it's about Jon we need to get him out, but to leave her alone against the King is no better. I move my eyes to Ned as he calmly speaks to the king, and those watching in the hall, his face and demeans appears unchanged by the situation, still stone-faced and calm. 

“ My King I'm sure. This was done , not in the name of rebellion, but” 

“Huh is that so,” the King cuts him off in a clipped tone, he’s obviously past listening to reason now, I think grasping my sword hand in anticipation of a fight.

As he stares down his closest friend, eyes a blazed in rath and hate meant for a girl of 18 now turned on the man who thought to defend her. The King snaps his head back around to look at Persephone as she dares to sigh out in aggravation towards the two men's pissing contest.

The King's tone is full of barely restrained rage as he lifts his hand to bring Persephone closer to the dalliance housing him and the queen, she two looked to be enjoying this too much.

“Go on read it out loud, girl , the truth Vareys has discovered in king landing about you Dragon spawn and we will judge your guilt from there, don't you agree lord Stark” Roberts bites at the end eyes looking quickly at his best friend before turning back to stare down Persephone as she read aloud.

“Which part your grace” Persephone says evenly 

“ Don't be smart girl, the part about you” the King bites right back, 

Her voice is clear and strong as she relays out loud what is contained within the letter. 

“To his most gracious majesty, after receiving word from, my little birds, it had come to my attention that the Lady Baratheon, has been hiding the true extent of her wealth within the iron bank of bravos. After meticulous study and a contact of Petyr Baelish's, we have found 3 other strongholds of wealth within the free cities of Pentos, Volantis and Myr. The ladies wealth could now reach upwards of 12 million gold dragons.”

She's pause at the gasps coming from the people surrounding her, before continuing on in an even tone.

“While this alone is quite troubling, as the intended use for such gold is yet unknown, the ladies own father, Stannis Baratheon admitted to the council of the fifth vault within his home on dragon stone, though to his knowledge was her only source of wealth, “ 

I see her swallow there real fear taking form within her features and eyes. becoming worried at losing her only real protection against the King's wrath. Yet she continues on speaking in a tone unaffected by her fear. Every inch a warrior queen I think.

“Furthermore it came to my knowledge that the lady has been speeding said wealth throughout Westeros, 23 silent sisters and 32 septons have reported back, that the lady is there sole provided. Each blessing her as a saint, and the people within their care have mirrored similar calls of love, I thought this matter urgent as the lady has already spread her power throughout Westeros leaving only the Riverlands currently free. 

When finished the hall is as silent as a crypt, no one sure on how to proceed. The King breaks it first eyes blazing towards her still form, no doubt his fury is lit a new after hearing the supposed rebellious deeds committed by Persephone once more. 

“ You think you can sow seeds of rebellion with my kingdom! .........Mine!..... Not yours or your family's! ”

It's a moment of pure rage that she breaks her cool, letting out some of her own fire as her eyes snap to the King her words spit out in uncontrolled rage. 

“You are my family, your grace and unless I am mistaken it isn't against the law now to help the common people or to not reveal one's wealth as public knowledge ?” 

Her eyes scan the hall, looking for an ally to back up her words, yet she finds nothing but scarred boys, even Lord Stark remains unchanged beside the King, silent in the face of his own Ally. I pity the poor girl no one is bold enough to help her even ones she calls, friends.

"She should have brought Tyrion!" Waters whispers to me. I nod back in a restrained manner preying to all the gods that the bold fucker will walk in and save Sep before she pushes back too far, her temper is that of a dragon, easy to ignite and damn near impossible to cool down once lit. I known from Jon's stories that her friendship with Tyrion and his surprising care for her is the only thing that had apparently saved her life on numerous occasions, especially when dealing with this enraged mad king. 

“Do not dare to speak to me, In such a tone I'm am your King, not your uncle or friend” Roberts rages right, back “ Your King and you will show me some respect or learn to live a head shorter” 

The mention of death seems to cool her own sense back into place, yet her hands form a fist once more, knuckles turning white as she mutters out an “Of course your Grace” eyes and head lowered before them. 

“ Do you recall our agreed upon terms niece” the king wipes his mouth with his sleeve anything less a king or loving uncle as he stares upon her lowered face.

“three, “ the King spits holding up his fingers, “I said you may visit three septons and offer them your pledge, is 5 the same as 3?.........No! nor is 55 the same as ”

“I did only visits, the 3 permitted to me, the rest were all done in the Baratheon name our name” 

The Kings slams his fist on the table again, indigent at her nerve to raise her voice towards him “Silence .” He yells out “I Did not give you my permission to speak” 

She recalls at that, pulling her knuckles in tighter, I can tell it’s a sign of restraint for her, probably trying to control the urge to kill the king. Though I do begin to worry for her sanity as drops of blood seeps through the fingers, for the nails seems to have punctured the skin, due to the level of force pulling them in.

My eyes shift to Waters his face appears as conflicted as mine as we each move to hold each other's arms back, stopping the other from moving against the King in a haze of rage.

The only thing stopping us is Persephone quick hand movement waving us off as the King orders her to kneel before him. Armed knights coming to stand next to her, prepared and ready for whatever punishment normally follows the King's words.

“I said kneel” He barks out once more “ You known the punishment for such crimes”

The knights go to force her, as she remained standing tall a lost look in her eyes and face. I watch her step forward on the last second, moving away from the Knight's hands, as she kneels before the king arms raised above her head, ready for whatever comes next. 

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It’s a disgusting sight one I never thought to witness again, the knight I know named Dwayne of house Towers. Unbuttons Persephone's jacket then, vest throwing them to the ground beside her. Waters stiffen's beside me, face turning red in rage as the knight's hands graze her right boob. Yet she remains stiff unmoving the whole time, seeming blacked out to the sensations and deeds been done to her, before a room full of people.

Her knuckles clench again before she closes her eyes the King's command of strike hard ringing clear throughout the hall. I want to murder him, I want to kill every man in this room for staying silent while they strike a defenseless woman. Ned is the only one speaking to the king in a hushed voice, arm locked in the king’s iron grip as he tries to move towards Persephone and the knights.

It takes 5 strikes each to the front and back of her body before she seems to break, she lets the rage out in pure victory, her eyes blazing like a dragon as she opens them to me. The knight towers lifts his sword high, bringing it down, a moment to slow to stop her. She grabs the blunted blade in her hands, hitting him in the stomach with its pommel causing him to buckle down low enough for her to punch him in the face, knocking him out in two easy moves. It’s the same for the second man, one I don't know, she kicks out her left leg in a flash, swiping out his legs from beneath him, so quickly he doesn't have enough time to recover before she’s on him, knee on his chest keeping him still while she lays three quicks blows to the face, causing him to fall unconscious as well. 

I vaguely hear the king order more men too pull her off, as I watch her beat the poor fucker repeatedly, two other guards seem to make the mistake of touching her. For she’s on them in a flash dagger unsheathed from her wrist, stabbing one in the foot, while the other in the leg. Bringing them close enough to knee in the face before she turns to the other three advancing on her. It’s a powerful move, yet hard to do, as she, pushes herself across the floor, taking one out at the knees, before spinning up grabbing a sword pommel in her hands, using it to flip the guard over and on to his back. 

She’s too slow to miss been cut on the arm by the third guard, she hisses out in pain, before grabbing the sword left on the floor. She disarms the guard easily before hitting him in the face with her swords pommel knocking him clean out. I notice her intent is not to kill obviously a hard feet in such a fight but smarter in the long run.

The two men stand as she turns back to them eyes blazing in rage, still they move to fight her once more uncaring about their slim chance of winning hell-bent no doubt on not losing to a woman.

Lucky for them the Kingslayer Jaime Lannister himself decides to join the fray, either having been ordered to restrain her himself or decided to end this mocking display of his pitiful knights. Who’s to say I was so focused on watching Persephone's fight I seem to have lost my head.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Even there fight is over quickly, she’s too fast and too angry to let it go on long, she wins by using a new move, one Jon taught her. Few known her true skill, only a handful of warriors fight with both hands and she happens to be one of them. It's a slash up, one that brings the opponent's blade down, no one ever has the strength in one hand to lift the sword up and out of such a low move. 

Except those dominant with both hands, for they have the unique skill of strength in both hands, built up over years of swordplay. Persephone does it perfectly, lifting the swords up and out of Jamie's hand catching it in her left, before she kicks him in the stomach causing him to land on his butt, in front of mine and Waters smiling faces.

She finishes by raising the swords to his neck and whispering a dangerous threat towards his shocked form “ I dare you! ......Move!..... Give me a reason to pay back your debt”

I see Jamie freeze removing his hand from his belt, no longer reaching for the dagger, hanging there. I know she hears and feels the king presence behind her yet she doesn't move to defend herself against him as he grabs her shoulder before hitting her across the face, so hard she too falls to the ground in front of us.

“You think you have the right to fight back” He screams out grabbing her neck in a bruising grip 

“I only kneel to my King “ she struggles to speak out “No one else has the right I'm still your nieces after all” 

Robert moves his hand from her neck and on to her chin, causing her face to squeeze tightly, no doubt in more discomfort than before, Robert looks at her closely “ I see nothing of my blood in you only that whore of your mother” 

“Yet I have your father's eyes” She bits right back unable to restrain herself completely even now as she clenches her knuckles in so tight her hands turn white against the floor.

“Robert! ” Ned says walking close to them, the presence of his friend causing Robert to let her go for a moment until she moves to stand. It a swift kick to her stomach a move that lands perfectly on her ribs. Causing her breathing to wheezes out as she curls into herself. Yet Robert can't even give her a moment of peace as he grabs her hair in a vice grip 

“Cut it off, or I will and we both know I won't choose someone so kind” She nods back eyes to the ground as she holds her knuckles in tighter, I see the blood seeping through, dripping slowly to the floor.

“ Don't forget your place again girl” Robert adds kicking her in the stomach once more, causing her to buckle upon herself in pain, breathing more strained than before.

The king walks over her bent body than with the queen following right behind him a look so chilling upon her golden face it sends me reaching for my other sword strapped to my waist. Feeling as though I need to slay them both to protect the people from there cruel madness, just like Aerys I think as they walk through the door.

 

Persephone moves to a kneeling position at the sound of the door closing. I move to help, but she holds up her bleeding hand halting me, as her eyes meet Sir Jamie's instead. We all watch transfixed by her as she stands proudly in front of us, bleeding and bruised but not broken.

“ let me guess, you let me win ?” she snarks towards Jamie, yet he seems unfocused on her face or words, to busy staring at her bleeding hands.  
“ Pathic” 

“What did you do, “ Jamie asks her coming to stand once more picking up his fallen sword, all the while watching the blood drip from the crescent moon shaped cuts upon her hands,

She doesn’t answer him at first merely glancing at us, eyes flickering to the nearby gaps, causing me and Waters to move further into the shadows, as she rips Jamie's white cape. She binds each hand roughly before, spitting out some blood upon the tiles, wiping it away with the same, bidding keeping the blood from dripping on the floor from her wrapped hands.

“I stopped a war, “ she finally answers lifting up her bided hands in a show of self-awareness.

“I'm not that selfish........To give into my impulses!......To kill a king, it no small thing,” She smiled in a bitter scowl, as she rubs her neck, eyes becoming colder as she maps her body for injuries.

“Though I wouldn't worry about me!....... You can't break iron kingslayer and I'm nothing if not a survive, dripping it from my blood” 

She storms out, after that leaving Sir Jamie and the people left mulling about in aware, me and Waters count to all of five before we rush after her.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

We catch her just as she nears the stables, no doubt she’s trying to avoid people. A wise move considering the state her appearance is currently in, she looks a right mess, bruised and bloody, missing clothes. I curse out loud once I notice that, stupid of us, we can’t even give her that small piece of comfort. A simple piece of clothing would help to hide her shirt-clad body from people's ever watchful eyes, a relief she no doubts needs at this moment.

“We forgot her coat” I mutter to Waters, he shrugs “Come on,” he says pulling us to the side entry, she clearly knows the hidden door to the sleeping quarters than, its for the best, considering the current situation, of in-fighting, blood, and her mostly uncovered body.

Waters grabs her arm, as we enter, behind her, a mistake, for he’s slammed against the hard stone as she raises a knife to me. She breathed out a sorry letting us go as she drops the dagger.

“No it was my fault,” Waters says arms raising in peace “Were sorry!.....We....” 

She cut’s him off shaking her head “ It’s fine, just promise me, you won’t tell Jon”

I sigh “There were other people, he’ll know” she muttered under her breath at that, before nodding, in understanding turning to walk up the stairs once more.

“Sep, just know, we are sorry!...... We should of “ I say to her back 

Her eyes flashes in rage as she turns back to me “I don't need a man to save me,” she bites back at me.

“I known but”

She flicks her arms away, an order of dismissal as we walk faster up the stairs “Just go!....watch Jon “ she yells out to us.

She over men clearly, I think, still, Waters is stupid enough, to push her just a step too far “Why he knows this has happened before” He asked to her back.

She freezes, mid-step, before advancing back on him, a look of murder etched on her face as she pushes Waters against the wall.

“Yes! but been told isn't the same as seeing the aftermath ....... I’ve been reeling in my anger nearly my entire life, Jon hasn't, you didn't see him last time.......... The rage he let out, the fire in our blood makes it 10 time worse,” she pulls back from Waters.

Looking at us both now “He’ll kill him!.......If he's lucky? .........Jon doesn't want a war, but rage is rage, you don't think we wouldn't kill for this?......... I would kill for less than this” 

I nod looking her over, “will watch him, stop him if we have two”

She nods walking away I grab her arms letting go quickly as she tenses again, stupid man. “Will you help if we can't? ”

her eyes are colder than ever before “No “ she states unfeeling, as she turns walking away.


	16. Jon

It had become a seamlessly pointless endeavor as we continue to look through books and scrolls, hoping to find any information that could help wake Bran from his trance-like slumber. Though there is one positive thing to come from this endeavour, Robb and Tyrion seem to be getting on well, now sharing jokes and laughter amongst the breaks in reading and discussions. 

I laugh out loud as Tyrion finishes his joke about three men who enter a whore house, Robbs own booming along mine . I turn to Art and Waters as they enter through the side door there faces are stone hard . A barely restrained rage seeming to seep from there pores, causing my smile and humor to evaporate in a second. Waters stands by the door as Art comes to whisper in my ear avoiding the looks coming from Robb and Tyrion.

It's a quick explanation, detailing the event involving Persephone and the King, still, my rage is blinding as I jump up, knocking my chair over in the process. 

I yell out “what,” pushing past Art’s stiff body as I leave the library, grabbing my sword along the way, planing to use it the moment I see the King.

I hear the heavy pounding of 4 booted steps behind me, as I thunder down the wooden steps of the Library, pushing past anyone who's unlucky to cross my current path. 

“ Where is she ?” I bark out glancing over my shoulder, at Art, his face appears the same as mine, full of rage and hate as we come to walk down the hall.

“ Guest quarters, her room” Art states his responses overlapping with Robb's yelling one as he tries to reach out to my fast-paced retreating back “Jon what's wrong,?”.

I don't respond, as we turn the corner, coming upon a group of servants gossiping in the halls. My rage is increasing at the constant interruptions of people, standing in my way. I huff loudly intent on pushing past them, in the crudest manner when Waters, steps in front. Deciding to take the role of rude and abrupt alongside, Art for themselves.

Their voices ring out a strict order of “ Move,” clearing the path for me instead.

Robb tries again, to stop me in my rage walk reaching for my arm, I yank it away, Turning on both of them “leave! Both of you it doesn't concern you”

I leave them there mouths agape as I push past my knights again coming to Persephone's door I hear the sound of loud crashing and screaming coming through it. I yank it open barely missing a chair throw at door, yet undeterred I walk through the mess of broken wood, glass, and blood.

she's still screaming out, smashing her hands against the vanity, panting out in short breaths of rage, yet her eyes look possessed as she looks at her image in the mirror, smashing it in a fit of anger against the floor. She screams out again as I watch her, silently taking in the whole image of her so broken in this moment. I find my own blinding rage returning, having cooled slightly on the long walk here. As rage inducing and terrifying this moment is I take a light touch as I try to grab her pacing body.

She strikes out at me, knife raised as I touch her arm, she drops it at once realizing it's me. The knife clings loudly to the floor as she falls into my arms, finally letting some tears come out. I rub her back, in silence giving her this moment of comfort before, pulling away, moving to caress her face.

I touch the bleeding lip, causing her to hiss out in pain. Before moving on to her scratched and redneck, thinking it will no doubt be bruised tomorrow. I feel slight guilt at the bruising done by my own lips now, even if one was done in lust and the other in hate, they both mark her porcelain skin, horribly.

She moves back into my arms holding me tighter than before, taking my warmth for her own.

“He made me kneel, I didn't do anything wrong and yet he made me kneel before him as if I was nothing” she whispers against my chest, eyes teary and voiced strained by the injustice of the notion of bowing towards such a man. 

I don't care that there people in the room watching us, watching her as if she liken to snap and burn the whole place down. Or my own growing fire, I merely focus on her needs, blocking out the rest, I begin to pull away from her again a moves she fights against trying to pull me back in, she’s strong, but I'm stronger. 

She obviously hasn't noticed the blood dripping from her banged hands and onto my arms and back. To halt her struggling I grab her wrists, forcing her eyes and body to focus back on the pain and blood once more. 

“Come,” I say leading her to the bed, by her wrists, sitting her down on the end, while grabbing one of the few not broken chairs to sit on in front of her hunched body. 

I cup her face tenderly, staring into her eyes “ They're all going to pay, I want the world to know what's happens when they touch my family” I vow out, never breaking eye contact. 

“ Jon you can't ” she huffs out, closing her eyes as she, pulls my hand away from her face, clear restraint in her demeanor. 

I snap back to my early rage, pulling her face back into my hands “ look at you, after what he's done I'm going to kill him, I'm going to teach them a lesson no one will soon forget” 

She pushes me away from her, not appreciating my tone or protective rage I'm sure  
“ And you’ll start a war” she yells into my face “we, can't do anything. You can't do anything” 

I huff right back, narrowing my eyes in rage before biting out “You think I care about that, no one and I mean no one touches my family and lives” 

She hiss out in pain un-clenching her hands, once more, she had no doubt forgotten in her rage the wounds made upon them earlier in the day. Stupid of me and her the blood is still socking through the bandages dripping heavily on to the floor. We should have taken care of them before anything else.

“Were not family Jon” she states out, her tone losing it edges, sounding more induced in pity for the need of such a lie.

I can’t let it stand, not this time, I pull her back to me, looking into her eyes once more “You are to me”

She smiles at that a tight thing, one that doesn't truly reach her eyes, I lift up her hands, cupping them into mine as I rub the bloody and ripped knuckles.

“we need to bandages these better”I smile back, just as tight but the air is less heavy between us now, the fight forgotten in the aftermath of pain and comfort seeking.

I hear Myra stone Robert's bastard daughter and Persephone somewhat love offering ointment and bandages to Art at the door. She’s probably afraid of Seps rage or rejection unable to meet either of our eyes as we stare at the people watching just outside the door.

Art walks through the mess of broken wood and glass, refusing to make eye contact either, simply offers the supplies without a word to me, before glancing at Persephone hunched body as she unwraps the blood-soaked bindings of her hands.

I sighed trying to rain in my rage towards the whole ordeal, she doesn't need it right now, so I push it down, a bursting fire I plan to unleash the moment she no longer needs my more calming presence to reign in her own.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We wash the dried blood away first in the water basing she thankfully didn't smash in her manic release of rage earlier. Few things are still in one piece amongst the room, everything is either broken or worse, taking the brunt of the treatment she had wished to use against the king I'm sure.

“He’s my family too” she whispers into my ear, eyes never leaving the blood-tainted water “ Not that it matters to him, it does to me, I won't let him make me into that kind of monster, one that kills its own blood, that's a hard line to come back from”

“It is”I mutter out, not really agreeing with her, mode of thought, still too angry to be so forgiving to the man who beat her, the very man she does share such close blood ties with.

We sit in silence for a little while after as I dry her hands, with the utmost care I can muster with my unpracticed technic and rough hands. I move to sit her back down on the end of the bed. The easiest place to administer the omient to her damaged palms and knuckles.

She tells me quietly, a voice barely above a whisper the reasons the King used to justify such a beating. Helping the poor as if that's any reason to hurt someone, even when we do the right thing we can't win in this bloody game. 

Any move we make to help the people of Westeros only seems to cause her more strife, my own guilt coming full force again. Half of the punishment should have been mine by right, was I not her partner in all things. Everyone knew it from the Wall to Dorne, I'm sure even this false King did as well, simply choosing to punishment one for the deeds of both.

As I continue to tend her wounds I mark them off within my head a debt I plan to reply 10 fold when the time comes. The first one is a bruised stomach and back painful but thankfully won't scar this time. Her hands those are another story, having dug her nails in so deep they punted multiple layers of skin. They are permanent, though should heal in time, same as her busted lips and red scratched neck. Six wounds in total are her only repayment for having the kindness and nerve to help the poor, a shocking injustice, though I will concede that it could've been much worse, with a man so poised with hate as Robert is.

Though there is another annoying factor to this whole pitiful show, the king, unfortunately, finding out the location of our joined wealth hidden throughout the free cities. Though the number is ridiculous off, believing the sum of only 12 million dragons when it towers at closer to 30 million now, something to thank Varys for I'm sure, even though I still want him dead alongside the many others involved.

I suppose though If I must spare Robert life for the blood that runs in both his and Persephone's veins. Then I might spare Varys life for the simple act of withholding the whole truth from the King. I don't doubt for a moment that he now knows some of the more damaging secrets, ones that if dragged In front of the King and his court couldn't be seen as anything but treason. 

Secrets that involved buying the contracts of 3 sells sword army's, a plot done In part as preparation of the upcoming war for the north and the other a fail-safe against Tywin Lannister , a man who was known to win all his battles by using his wealth to buy trained armies from across the sea.stacking his odd, against the common people fighting for their lords. 

Not to mention the acts of treason done in good faith by helping Viserys and Daenerys with food, shelter, and protection for almost three years. My frown deepened as she talked on, trying to find a way out of this mess, but like always she has a plan laid out within her mind, ready for such disruptions. 

“Will leave it for now,” she says as I finished wrapping her hands “ I have a plan, once the king is gone, I’ll go put it into motion”

I nod along to that, too unfocused to really be helpful, I rub my finger across her lip again “ I’m still going to kill him.”

“Jon” she snaps in aggravation, the same tone Art uses from his place by the door.

“You have to be careful Jon, the walls have ears” Art states calmly, though in reprimand at my continued uncaring threat of murder towards a king. 

“Good I want the whole castle to known what happens when you touch the people I love”

“Leave it, please “ Sep bites out, I sigh giving her this one for now.

“Fine ! for now, but if I ever get the chance to repay this debt, I'm going to take it” 

She smiled coldly towards that “Oh don't worry I’ll be right next to you pushing the other sword in ”

“Good, yet if I can’t, kill a king I'm going to kill the knights who thought they had the right to hit her,” I state to the room as I kiss her on the head, walking towards the door intent on finding the men responsible. “I’ll be back later”

“I don’t need a man to save me” she cuts out towards my back, I ignore it now faced with the wall of Art and Waters as they look down on me in harsh judgment, clearly not agreeing with my plan.

“Who are the men who hit her?” I question out, Art frowns towards Waters as he responds freely, back to me, obviously not caring a lick for the men involved.

“I don’t know them, but they were walking towards the training yard as we came to fetch you, they already took quite the beating from Sep, I can assure you, Jaime Lannister too” there's pure pride in his tone as he looks behind me towards Seps sitting figure, smiling the whole time.

I nod harshly smiling bitterly “Good, yet if I can't kill a king I'm going to kill someone”I shoulder past them, just making it out the door before Art grabs hold of my arm in his iron-like grip.

“You can't, they acted on the king orders”

My eyes burn towards him, my rage having returned full force now, as I come to stand before him, easily winning the battle of wills, through eye contact despite, Art still been taller than me.

“A knight can say no, or have you forgotten the vows, I will never ask anything of you that may lessen your honor’

I point back towards Sep door as I cut out “well this is such an act, someone going to pay for it ! you choose, war or weak men who are actually guilty”

They look at each other for a moment communicating in silence before I have enough, ripping my arm away from Art as I bark out “let's go” moving to push past Robb and Tyrion's blocking bodies. 

We’ve barely moved 5 steps before Waters, jumps in front of me, I freeze before trying to get past him again, an impossible task in such a small space

“mover waters”, I state in a tone full of murderous intent.

“Beat them don't kill them, she's not dead and allowed it to happen” Waters doesn't flinch trying to use reason, on me, yet it only makes my blood burn hotter.

“Allowed it to happen, do you want me to punch you two”

“She did, a selfless act to stop a war, she's a warrior before all else, not some kind of victim that needs you to save them, Jon !” Art adds on in reason again a hard thing for my northern side to fight against and they know it, having raised me as such. 

I swallow “ I known that, but I want someone to pay, in blood for this” 

“ And they will by beating them, not killing them, that's justice an eye for an eye, a scar for a scar it's the best we can do, don't think for a moment I don't want to help, we stood there again ! allowed a king to do this again all for peace ?” Art and Water say together a united front now.

I give into their reason long enough to reign in my plan to kill, I’ll mami them a lot instead, I bark out a “Fine come on” walking down the hall as a group now. For where going on a hunt hoping to catch us some dishonorable knights and teach them a lesson in honor and justice. 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

We find 7 men standing in a circle laughing and joking while making crude hand gestures about her, Persephone my Persephone. By what right do they think they can mock her, a woman worth 20 of them in fighting skill and charter alone. My blood boils again as I watch them, joking and mocking her amongst each other, I want to killing every last one of them until no one will dare speak her name in mocking slander again.

Yet I stay my hand remembering my promise to Art and waters to beat them bloody instead of killing them. I sigh loudly, pushing down my rage just enough to stay my hand, towards murder at least.

My eyes look towards Waters first than Art’s “ How to begin?”

“The five with marks upon them, are the one involved” Art respond angrily out, his eyes ablaze upon them, as we come to stand just outside the circle, watching Ser Jamie Lannister and Ser Meryn spar, hoods raised to hide their faces.

I nod back, my eyes never leaving Ser Jamie Lannister as he annihilates Ser Meryn in a two move step ending there sparring sessions and opening the field. I want him bleeding by the end of this too but it's probably much harder to bait them into a fight. 

The five other morons or 10 now as I glance back over at them make it too easy really. Waters doesn't even have to bait them into a fight, with his obnoxious comments and jibs, for my bastard presence seems to do that alone.

One yellow-haired and illiterate boy yells out pushed on by the group “you're the bastard of Winterfell, aren't you? the wildling lover ?”

I nod back, my face blank, not even moving to look at them. I know how to play them, it's easy to be brave in a group of 10 men “ What to high and mighty to talk to us we humble guards.

“ To uninterested”I respond back

Three move closer than, I'm happy to see it’s the ones with marks already on their faces, “You think your hot shit, don't, ya ” one move to touch me with his finger, an action Waters blocks with his chest. 

“ Don't touch” He bites out 

The knighted guards laugh out at that “ What the bastard needs his Mommy to protect him” 

“ No “ I snort out “ Just friends, though we did come down here looking to spar”

I gesture towards the now free training ring “ Care to have ago? you 10 verse us three?” The guards all share disbelieving looks, obviously very full of themselves, pity they don't know who, there fighting.

“ The south verse the north, I known the odds are stacked against you but give it ago” Waters baits out, getting his attend results, all guards agreeing to the fight to protect their pride, the five already beaten by Persephone that day jumping in first, no doubt wanting to prove themselves, men, again.

It’s over pathetically fast, there hardly trained compared to me, Art and Waters, it’s a 10-minute show of dodging swords while hitting them with a fist, legs and even the swords a couple of times. The men lay bloody and bleeding around us, each sporting a broken nose or wrist in the aftermath of our rage, crying out for mercy, something I’m happy to give this time.

Then comes the foolish Kingsguards Ser Meryn decides to bait us, or me more pointedly into another fight as we walk away. The man isn't even brave enough to say it to our faces just our retreating forms, Art and Waters are even a good deal away from me by then, drinking in their fill of water as I, move to strap LongClaw back to my hip. 

I promptly lay my sword back down, reaching for the blunted steel once more. As he makes a sneering comment about Persephone.

“ Looking to win the maidenhead of the dragon princess are we? Hoping to earn it through winning back her honor, pity for you that girls legs only open for coins, or haven't you heard bastard ?”

I storm towards him, ignoring the calls of Art too, “let it be”, “ You can't harm a Kingsguard”. Pity for him I don’t care what the king will do, I'm going to beat him so bloody, his ancestors feel it. 

He is slightly better than the other Knights still laying on the sparring floor. Yet still not good enough to beat me, I’ve been trained since age five by some of the best swordsmen in history. That training was then added to by the cutthroats tactics I learned from the wilding, making it over in 4 quicks steps. I slash, his sword away before hitting his stomach, making sure to break at least three ribs. Then on to his face, broken nose, bloody lip, and heavily damaged eye are later and the fights over, his on the floor and I’d smiling above him, my rage done for.

Or so I thought, Jamie Fucking Lannister has the nerve to come at me, he’s cocky and arrogant. As he twirls his sword “ Want to have a real fight bastard, you best learn your place, like that Dragon girl, did early today”

I know he’s saying it to blind my senses and attack first, but i’ve fought Waters and wilding two much to give into it. Still, I raise my sword back up preparing for another fight, the guards having awoken off the floor are kind enough to pull Ser Meryn off the ground and behind, the rails, shouting in support of Jamie.

I hear Robb do the same for me, causing me to make the mistake of glancing at him, having been to shocked at hearing his voice after my earlier rudeness to think he would look for me so soon. Tyrion’s next to him as well looking worried for me and nerves of Jamie skill.

At my distraction, Jamie slashes out, faster than one would excerpt of a man of his age, yet I do manage to dodge it blocking the powerful, blow with my own sword. It’s a blind dance from there one moving so fast I can barely take it in, a blow here, doge there, sidestepping and pushing each other away. Facing off again and again in an equal fight, he's as skilled as they say, yet I learn his moves quickly, he favors too much on his right sight. 

A hand cap most fighters have when only trained in singled handed sword fighting, unlike me. I use the same move, against him Sep apparently did early in the hall a deep, drop of my blade, causing his to land on top.

He doesn't appear any better prepared the second time, as I lift the sword up with my left hand spinning his blade into my now open right palm, I slash across punching him in the face with the swords pommel, causing him to stagger slightly. I take my chance then kicking him in the chest and knocking him to the ground for the second time that day. The sound of shocked silence ringing out from the people watching, Jamie’s and Tyrion’s faces appear the same in that moment the only time I could be convinced they were brothers, for they wear looks so similar.

Robbs breaks the silence as he cheers out causing the assembled crowd to do the same, it goes silent once more as I reach for Jamie offering my hand in peace. He seems to have enough self-awareness to take my hand, still, I pull him close, speaking loud enough for those closest to us to hear.

“No one touches my family and lives, remember it ! for peace will not be kept if, this happens a second time, kingslayer” I push him back to the ground after my rage fulfilled for now.

I walked away to the open mouths of the people my brother smiling thru his worry at my actions towards the soldiers of the King. Yet I still couldn't bring myself to care about what might happen after, once the king learned of my own deeds against him, not so easy to ignore a second time, I’m sure.

I turn left making my way back into the hall that leads toward the guest quarters, I notice then, the worried and confused face of my adoptive father. Standing in the entry, having no doubt witnessed the whole encounter between me and the king's men or at the very least the final fight and words spoken between me and the Kingslayer.

I think to say nothing at first letting it lie but i can’t stop my slight anger towards his silence and involvement over the whole ordeal, not to mention the fact that Art and Waters had to move back to the shadows as I fought the Kingslayer. Unable to stand proudly beside me, due to the fear of been caught and found out alive.

I look into his eyes stopping for only a moment “Keep him away from her !”

He nods in acceptance, to shocked, worried or confused to say anything back, yet understanding my meaning behind the pointed words easily enough. We part in familiar peace, me walking into the hall and back to my place by Persephone's side. While he no doubt tries to re-establish peace between the kings men and the starks, by tending to their wounds and complaints with the practiced ease and patience of a Lord.

The day turns into night and yet no one comes to bother us, Persephone tends to my own bruised hands now, as I rejoin her, in a different room than before one not broken and damaged by our fits of rage. We simply sit in silence letting the hate and poison of the day bleed away as we sit in each other's arms. 

Yet as i stare into the fire i make a vow to myself , promising to all the gods listening that this is where i would remain, by her side even if it takes dragon fire to keep it so, no one would ever bring a dragon so low again, war was hell but a wolf’s vow was a thousand times worse, when one dared to break it.


	17. ned

It was a hard week that followed the Event of Winterfell as the people came to call it, a week of rage and endless issues I was forced to deal with. First came the king, I leave the hall, with the royal party an uncomfortable choice, but the right one considering the situation. To help Persephone so publicly would do nothing but ignite the king's fury once more, I simply had to trust in Art and Waters to take care of Persephone damaged form. 

I follow behind the King and queens backs at a brisk pace, they move to part ways quickly, now having concluded there vial task for the day and are no longer in need of each other's wickedness I’m sure. I turn to follow the king, making our way through the hall’s of my keep and into a chamber thankfully far away from Persephone's. I continue to watch in disgust and silence as Robert drinks his fill of an entire jug of wine, waiting all the while for the moment him might permit me to speak.

“Well ….get on with it septoner Ned, you obviously have something you wish to discuss with your king.” His tone is hard and cold leaving no room to misinterpret the clear point behind the use of his title. He’s clearly annoyed at my continued presence, yet I won't back down not after such a display.

“How could you do that ?” I state out just as coldly 

His laugh is as cruel as the deep scowl etched on his face “She's a Targaryen bitch, trying to steal my throne!” He scoffs out 

“As if you have to ask”

I harden towards him just a little be more after that, I wonder where is the man I once knew, one full of jest and life. Not this bitter cruel King who punishes his own niece for actions of a family she barely even remembers. I close my eyes to him turning away to look at the Stark sigil resting on the wall finding my strength in that as i speak my opinion without fear.

“She's a Baratheon, not a Targaryen or have you forget whose child she is” 

He throws the now empty jug of wine at the wall I’m staring out, forcing me to look upon him once more as he yells “She's a Targaryen when she plots to overthrow me, I should have killed her where she stood, so proud and noble, don't you dare fall for it”

I take a deep breath, trying to stop any sharp retrotes from leaving my lips at his mad parniona, “Giving money to the poor in her father's name, your name Robert is not an act of treason,”

That causes him to slam his cup down, spilling wine as his, face darkens to murderous intent once more. Though it's focused on me now, I know I should pull back let it be, but my honor demands I push on “What you're doing, is fear nor justice, just like the mad king”

“How dare you,” he storms out, I raise my hands in peace, it seems to calm him enough as he sits down, drinking heavily from his refilled wine glass, a nervous servant rushing from the room as if a fire just broke out.

“What would you know about it? buried in the north, you don't know what it's like there, the people love her !” He mutter’s out, 

I see the worry underlying the rage now, one he won’t admit even to himself I’m sure. An undeniable fear of war, a war he knows we wouldn't win this time, not if the people are cheering for the opposite side when it comes to battle once more.

I think to try reason again, a tact which rarely works on him, but still the best path I can think to take “ I’m sure they do, but as a Baratheon, not Targaryen Robert, she is her father's daughter”

“Don’t keep saying it! I will kill every last Targaryen I get my hands on” he slams his hand against the table in a fist-shaking it slightly due to the power of the blow.

“ Don't think I believe for a moment that she actually Stannis! Not like that damn fool , That whore of her mother properly spread her legs for 50 more men after she wed my brother, the fact she has my father's eyes is the only thing keeping her alive”

I look at him, my closest friend, trying to ponder out, how he become so, twisted by hate to wish death on his own blood so easily. I have never been surer at this moment that I made the right choice when I named Jon my bastard son. Robert would have killed him where he laid as a babe and even easier now as a man if given even half a chance.

I control my rage and sickness towards him, trying to act as nothing more than a friend, I go to try again “Robert”

Yet he wouldn’t hear it, too far gone in his cups now, to listen to any form of reason even from me. I've had the misfortune to watch him drink 12 glasses already, all within quick precession of each other, barely stopping for breath. It’s a worrying sign, both for his general health and temperament. 

“Go” he barks out “I’ve had enough, go pack, see to her if you must, but we will be gone within the week Ned your king commands it, Kings landing awaits.” his smile is that of a drunk, yet I bow before him.

“of course your grace” my only parting words as I leave the room in quiet controlled rage.

Too tired to fight him on anything else this day, justice when it comes to Targaryens will always be pointless with a man like Robert, i see that now and it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth as I walk through the various halls that have raised a boy of that blood since birth. 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------

 

The next problem that comes about, is one of my own makings and not really one that needed to be solved. Persephone is entitled to her rage and anger, more so than me and everyone else who may care for the girl. I walk around the corner just as Jon seems to be storming away pushing past his brother and Tyrion Lannister of all people, without a backward glance of apology. Another person I’ll have to calm, then, Jon wasn’t known for his temper, but when pushed, it snapped like wildfire, destroying everyone and everything unlucky to get within its path.

I knock on the open door, prepared for many things when I enter the room, yet I’m shocked to find her sitting in a room destroyed to pieces yet looking as if she has become resigned to peace in the aftermath of such destruction.

“I’m sorry for the room” she politely speaks out first, her eyes scanning the room.

I shake my head waving off her apology as I scan it myself, there's almost nothing not broken, or worse, every piece of furniture, having taken the brunt of someone’s anger. I’m almost hoping it was Jon, if only to stop him from letting it out on someone else, a stupid thought considering Persephone is the one apologizing so the clear curpult of this furniture massacre. 

“Don't think, on it, will move you further down the hall” she nods along looking uncomfortable and stained as I watch her, I'm sure I look much the same, still standing in the door frame.

Tyrion breaks through my arms, boots crunching wood as he rushed towards her “my god what has he done ?” he asks cupping her bandaged hands, something I didn’t notice before. An odd thing to have injured as well even when she fought back against the guards her hands shouldn't have needed such heavily wounded treatment. 

She answers my thoughts before I’ve even had the chance to finish it, responding in a reside tone towards Tyrion “Nothing more, than I did to myself,” she pulls her hands from Tyrion grasp as Robb joins me in the doorway.

I regain my senses under her piercing gaze “Do you have need of something my lord? ”

“I wished to check on you, and offer the services of Winterfell Master to tend to your.…” I stutter on that word unsure how to fraze such a sensitive thing.

Yet she saves me, speaking in unaffected monotone voice “My injuries, yes they are quite terrible aren't they” 

“Persephone ?” Tyrion’s states trying to turn her back to him, yet she won’t budge as she looks almost through me and my son lost in some thought.

“ ah there it is, that look in your eyes, in all your eyes, man can't help to look so guilt-ridden when a woman is beaten, except it’s your sex, your friend, brother who’s done it” she looks us all in the eyes as she lists the common thread linking us to Robert. 

She moves to hold up one of her damaged hands studying it in pondering question before pointing to each of us, using it as a tool of damnation.

“But stop, I don't want your pity, I don't want it from any of you” 

She laughs out, in self-induced hardness, looking at her cupped hands once more “You know, I did this to myself after all ?”

I try to pull her from this lost melancholy, she spiraling towards with a gentle yet firm tone. Hoping to remind her, exactly why her hands and body are damaged so “We both know that’s not true, the King !”

She lets out a puff of air, a look of rage coming back into her “Oh your right, Lord Stark. A man did it to me in part” 

“A King, your uncle” Tyrion spoke out, tone full of pity as he stands in front of her once more, pulling her hands back down as she loses her train of thought. Staring at them in silence, her eyes growing harder as each moment passes.

“But I did help the poor what a horrible notion !........helping someone below me almost unheard of in king's Landing!........so it has to be treason” she mocks out, wearing an unbelievably look upon her face.

“ That’s why?” Robb and Tyrion say together their voices and face are shadowed in disbelief.

“hmmm, of course, they deserve each other your sister and Robert both such selfish creatures !” Persephone answers back her tone mocking and hard all at once, as she smirks towards Tyrion.

She licks her lips as she goes, to stand at the window looking out into the courtyard below with a smile of resigned peace back in place, her tone matches it much the same when she speaks next. 

“Unlike me, of course!........ I mean look at my hands!......bruised and ripped knuckles from bashing my hands against tables and chairs as I tore apart this room in my rage trying not kill my uncle” 

We all look about the room as she gives us a moment to ponder her statement, it is a shocking sight when taking it in a new with those words ringing through. The unsaid sentence, of this, is what she would have liked to do, to her family member, her uncle, and King. We see it there in the ripped lien, broken furniture and glass, she would of ripped Robert to shreds if she possessed, even an ounce less restraint within herself.

She breaks us from our pondering with a question of her own “Love or hate, what is more powerful ?” no one answers her to lost to this moment “ no one ?”

“Well, I’ll tell you it’s love!....... For love of the people is the only reason I hurt myself so permanently………….I do it so they won't have to, I don't need anything from you Lord Stark excerpt a leash for that man you call king” she turns to us once more a pride from her strength now ringing though.

“though if I was you I would run from him as far and fast as I could. Kings Landing will be the death of you mark my words, stay here where it's safe enough for now. Because a wars coming I don’t who will be fighting but it coming, and unlucky for Westeros it’s not the one that going to need fighting.”

She finishes just as strong, no longer lost to her inner demons as before, the warrior queen is back as she commands us away from her.

“Now please get out, I wish to be alone in my misery, for now, go check on your brother and son my Lords, for his temper is a sight when unleashed and the people down there are screaming out because of him “

Robb rushed from the room after that, Tyrion hot on his heels, going to find and hopefully stop whatever Jon's doing in the courtyard below. I bow towards her same as I did Robert but with one last apology on my lips.

“I want you to know I’m sorry, not out of pity for you, but for me, I don’t have your strength few do, to let themselves be mocked and brought low all for the love of others”

She hmm at that “Really my lord, I dare say your strength triples mine in that department after all your mocked endlessly for the one stain on your honor, pity the world can’t know it was your greatest deed of them all”

She shuts the door on my face, forcing me to over think her words as I travel down the hall, I question over and over. On how she knows the truth?,does Jon ? will she tell him ?. On and one it goes within my mind until I’m standing in the courtyard watching Jon best Ser Jaime Lannister and making a statement that all but answer them. Family, he called her family, meaning he either loves her like a wife or known her as a cousin, neither is good, still, I push it away going to deal with the next problem for the day. 

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The week follows the same pattern from there, I put out fires with the king once he hears of Jon words and actions, a small mercy that my reputation as the worst liar saves me from a too in-depth integration. Robert simply believes my story as truth when i explain away Jon actions as a boy unaware of the kings rightful punishment. I tell a half liar of how Jon merely went to spar and found guards disrespecting a Baratheon and acted on instinct from there, hoping to defend the king's honor not Persephone’s.

It hardly all that believable considering the well-known connection between Jon and Persephone through their business partnership, yet Tyrion helps the king and queen swallow it with little more than a few sentences. His reason for helping my son still a mystery to me, especially after Lysa’s, Cat sister warned us about them, still, I am thankful for him at the moment, even if I don't trust his family one bit. 

From there I had to juggle keeping Persephone from the king, Jon from the king and finally packing up my life, all the while still dealing with my sick son. Though Jon does offer some insight to that, explaining it away as magical nonsense, a story involving Brandon the builder having the power of green seeing and warging, a most rare thing even in the old north apparently.

Yet Jon believed that if Bran was blessed with both, the fall from the tower would have caused his ‘third eye’ to open through trauma, causing a dream-like trance, one he would wake from when ready. It was utter nonsense still I took it, allowing him his hopeful belief even if I did not.

From there I have to say my goodbyes, my final encounters are hard and sad all at once. Cat is unforgiving as I leave her alone, to battle our son’s sickness without me. I pray to my god’s that they may help her understand, for if given the choice I would stay here within the walls of Winterfell until my death. But duty calls and my honor demands I answers despite any personal wishes I may have.

Robbs is hard yet easy all at once, I'm almost glad he has this time to rule the north, while I’m still living. Yet not a shadow hanging to close that it might stunt his growth, it also eases my worry that Jon will be by his side always, having all but ruled the wilding alone for near on 2 years.I know he will be a great comfort and source of advice in moments, where Robb may not yet be sure how to handle the situation.

I ride out of the gates of Winterfell to my sons faces standing stoic and proud amongst the people left behind in Winterfell, he looks a Lord and man grown, in this moment one who no longer needs his father to chase away the problems of his world, for he can do it himself now.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

My final goodbye is to Jon as we stop between the crossroads of the king's road, an odd thing considering, I’m going south to live and all but rule the Red Keep. While Jon goes North to the Night's Watch and wildling camp a place he had been ruling and visiting for years. What are the god plans I think to send me south the place of Jons birthright, while he goes north to the land of always winter a home for no man, lest of all a king?

I look towards him, staring into the eyes of my sister as I say our common goodbye “There great honor serving the Night watch, the stark have maned the wall for thousands of year and you might not have my name but you do have my blood”

He smiles slightly “You say the same thing every time, I starting to think you want me to join for real”

“I often think you will,” I say back a slight tease to my tone, though mostly ruined by the inner demons of thought spinning in my head. I can't help but hope for it, I know it's a hard life, but any chance of war would end the moment he said the vows, perhaps it’s too selfish of me to wish him to such a fate after all he’s done for the North these last 5 years.

“Black was always my color” he tries to joke back though falling a bit flat as he asks the same question as always back “Is my mother alive, does she known about me, what I’ve done, where I’m going next ?”

I don’t give into his question, there two many ears here to discuss such a thing, even though he has a right to known. 15 years is old enough to deal with it I'm sure, but Art, Waters and O’s seem to have kept their promise to me, thus far to wait until he’s 18. A plan Persephone's has perhaps ruined regards of his open and hungry face as he asked me the question just moments before. 

“Next time we see each other will talk about your mother” A hope-filled response one different from the last time he asked, one I hope is enough to stop him from looking for answers on his own.

He doesn't look happy there's rage flashing across his face alongside his tone of contempt “ You won’t ever tell me will you ?”

I sign “ I will I promise when the time is right will talk about your mother”

He nod’s back accepting my small statement of peace, before clasping me on the back in farewell, smiling in peace as he responds “goodbye father, until next time” before riding away full speed, catching up to Tyrion, Persephone and his uncle Benjen as they travel to the Wall.

I’m sure he doesn't hear my own “goodbye my beloved son” as I turn away as well, catching up to the carriage housing my daughters and retaking my place beside Robert as he rides his stallion, laughing and joking once more like oldest of friends as we travel south 

But little did the hidden king and honorable lord knew where their journeys would lead, for they say the gods had plans for us all and laughed whenever we made such promises and plans to each other. Pity for them they never learned the great joke, if so they may have found the time, for a proper goodbye this time.


	18. Daenerys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys so a couple people weren’t happy about this chapter so here a warning that rape will mentioned so please skip the last paragraph if this upsets you.

Last night I dreamt of a dragon, large and black with flecks of red upon its scales the very living embodiment of Balion the black dread. It saved me from my brother from all the monster chasing me in truth, it was a common dream, one mixed with hints of my memory. I was running down an endless hallway while Viserys hunts me from behind, screaming out over and over again “ you woke the dragon Dany!”  
“ You woke the dragon now you pay”

I feel his hands reach for me then, having caught up with ease, even in this dream-like place I have nowhere to hide. He pushes me to the ground while ripping my dress off, tearing the seam to shreds in his madness induced grip. I'm naked before him, bare from anything that may bring me comfort or protection, I feel the blood dripping down my legs as he hurts me, I scream out. But no one comes the only other voice in this hallway is Viserys mad one as he continues to scream out you woke the dragon while he beats me.

Then it stops, I feel a blinding warmth of flame washing over me, in welcome strength. Viserys is gone and before me stands my dragon, fierce and protective with eyes of yellow, as he stares I feel it a connection. An Unbreakable bond and I known he is mine to command, mine to ride and protect, we are one.

As I reach for the head of the dragon, a figure dressed in white and a figure dressed in black reach out halting my touch. I can't see there faces as they turn me towards them, pulling my eyes from the looked dance of connection with the dragon eyes. 

I stare upon them in silence waiting for the reveal of their faces, waiting for the moment of terror or pain that so often fills my dreams. Instead, they speak as one “first you must wake the dragon sister, blood of our blood let the girl die and the dragon will rise” I stare at them in confusion, endless thoughts running through my mind, who are they, what could they mean. Yet they all come to a halt as the women in white reaches up intent on revealing her face to me. 

Just as the hoods fall I'm jolted awake to the slamming of my bedroom door opening. Viserys stands within the door frame shouting orders at my maids on how to style me for today is my wedding day, with that thought, I rush from bed allowing myself to be picked apart and remade anew, the dream is long forgotten as I stand before Khal Drogo, becoming his wife. 

 

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I wed Khal Drogo on the eve of my 15th birthday just outside the walls of Pentos. It was a barbaric affair full of men drinking and fighting amongst themselves over women they wish to bed. It was a shocking sight for my sheltered 15-year-old self, I'd been told of course in preparation of my wedding night of what transpires between a man and a woman. But the sight was a shock nonetheless as a man after man mounts a woman from behind fucking her hard into the ground while the crowd cheers and drinks on.

I sit beside my new husband in silence to unsure how to address him or what I could even say if I did. He simply smiles throughout watching the actions of his khalasar with the focused interest of a King, no a Khal, for they do not have kings in this foreign land, just men the people choose to rule them.

I look towards my brother as he converses with Magister Illyrio, both sitting just a step below me and Khal Drogo on the dalliance. Built for us by Illyrio so we may accept the tributes from the khalasar and the other magister of Pentos in celebration of our wedding.

I notice Ser Jorah Mormont an exiled knight from the north of Westeros and my brother new swore sword, coming up the steps carrying a gift within his hands. He bows low, speaking to Drogo in the Dothraki tongue, before coming before me, having received some kind of permission from my husband I'm sure. 

He hands me a large stack of dusty book, worn from time, but are so precious to me for the stories they contains “ these are the songs and history of Westeros, not much I'm sure, but all an old knight can afford I'm afraid”

I give him a true smile, one full of gratitude and warmth for his well thought out gifts “ they are perfect, I will treasure them always” he bows moving back to stand beside Viserys.

I glance back out to the crowd of Dothraki still sitting in silence as I sip my honeyed wine, Drogo shouts commands beside me to his blood riders. Talking in a language sill so foreign to me, in sound I doubt I will ever learn the harsh tongue. It is only a quarter of the way through the day when I see my first man die. 

There are women dancing before us to the beat of the drums, I note Khal Drogo's expressionist face, no sign to show he's enjoying them. Yet his eyes do follow the movements of the dancers often, throwing a gold medallion into the group so the women can fight over it. 

The warriors are watching too, this is where the fight starts, one steps forward claiming a woman for himself, pulling her slightly to the side and mounting her in front of us as many others have throughout the day. I don't avert my eyes this time remembering Illyrios words. “The Dothraki mate like the animals in their herds. There's is no privacy in a khalasar, and they do not understand sin or shame as we do.”

My meeker upbringing does start to win out though as the women's breast are laid bare as well, I start to avert my eyes, but soon one man then two join the circle. One of the men tries to claim the women for himself pushing the original warrior off and to the ground. It's a blink of my eye before the arakhs are out a long razor-sharp blade, made to look half sword and half scythe. The two men slashing at each other in battle, it's a dance of death as they circle one another, no one moving to intervene, or stop such a pointless loss of life

 

The fight ends as quickly as it started, the arakhs shivered together faster than I could follow, yet I notice one man miss a step, causing the other to pounce on his mistake. Landing the Arrakis into his opponent's stomach and cutting him from chest to belly button in a bloody end, the man falls forward insides coming from him. The winner cuts off the losers braid showing it to the cheering ground as he reaches for the nearest woman, not even the one they were fighting over, to begin with. Mounting her as he was earlier, as slaves drag the body away, throwing sand over the blood as the dancing resumes.

I'm disgusted by such acts of brutally wondering to myself if these are men at all or just beast in mask. I want to scream out, praying for someone to save me yet I hear the voice within my head, you are the blood of the dragon, blood of our blood. So I stay trying to hold on to that strength as the day continues to grow ever closer to the moment my husband will claim me as his. I don't want it, I don't want him even now, yet my fear of my brother and the fear of my new husband are equal in terror and knowledge that running or fighting would only bring me greater pain, the like I experienced in my dream, not hours before. 

I see 4 other men fall to blades over women and wine, not the last for the day I hear Drogo make a sound close to a laugh watching it all, still in silence beside me. 

I hear Illyrio say to my brother that a Dothraki wedding without three deaths is considered a dull affair, causing Viserys to laugh out happily in enjoyment, no doubt taking pleasure the same way I feel fear at such acts of violence. 

My husband stands clapping once to signal the final gifts of the day, my bride gifts, the ones that signal my payment for giving myself to Drogo.

First comes my brother gifting me with 3 handmaidens. I know they had cost him nothing, Illyrio no doubt provided the girls. The first two named Irri and Jhiqui were copper-skinned Dothraki with black hair and almond eyes. The third was named Doreah a fair-haired, blue-eyed Lysene girl. 

“ they are no common servants, sweet sister” my brother stated as he brought them forwards. “Irri will teach you riding, Jhiqui the Dothraki language and Doreah the arts of love, she’s very good me and Illyrio can both attest to that”

He smiles sinisterly, walking away back to his seat as the girls come to stand to the far right of me head bowed in meek servitude, one thing we have in commons than I think, all just pawns in a man's game. 

Illyrio stands next, coming so close to the dalliance I can feel his breath on my neck. He to clasps twice signaling to his servants to bring out his gift, it a monstrous thing, made of equestive wood and metal carving. The most notable carving been the Targaryen signal of the three-headed dragon etched into the top of the wood, in the deepest red nature could provide, I reach out caressing it, taking a moment to savor touching my family sigil for the first time. 

When I lift the lid there nested in the finest velvety and demasks the Free Cities could produce are three large eggs. I let out a gasp, they are the most beautiful things I had ever seen, each different from the other. The first is a deep green, with burnished bronze flecks, the second is a pale cream with flecks of gold and the last is as black as midnight yet alive with scarlet ripples and swirls. I pick up the black one, so large I have to use two hands to hold it, I had expected it to be made of some fragile material, yet it is heavy as stone as I hold it within my hands and warm to touch, I feel it like a heartbeat humming from inside. 

“ Dragon egg’s,” I ask Illyrio as I place the egg back within the casing, never taking my eyes off them.

“ yes dragon eggs, from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai, the eons have turned them to stone, yet are still beautiful for the eyes” Magister Illyrio responds smiling proudly jabs clasped over his belly. 

I smile back so unbelievably touched by such a gift I had heard stories of such eggs since my childhood, yet never thought to own such a treasure for myself “ I will treasure then always” 

Illyrio walks away then rejoining a fuming Visery who whispers harshly in Illyrio ear, no doubt unhappy with me receiving such a gift instead of him. Drogo walks away from the dalliance then, motioning for me to follow him.

 

I leave the dalliance waking through the crowd of watching Dothraki, in silent fear of what was to come. Drogo leads me to a white mare strong and beautiful a horse fit for a queen or Khaleesi as the Dothraki call their queens.

I know she is my bride gift from Drogo, a payment for the maidenhead he plans to claim in a few moments time, yet my fear does dispatch a little at such a beautiful gift. I can't help but think he must be more than just a barbaric monster, whose life revolves around nothing but destroying and fighting against anyone who crosses their path. 

 

He lifts me onto my horse, with the ease of a man of pure strength, not buckling an inch under my weight. Before mounting his own, with the practiced ease of a man born in the saddle. 

He leads me to a cliff overlooking the horde, pulling me off once more before walking around me in a circle. I can't help but let the tears fall as he studies me, he wipes them away saying no in the common tongue.

I dare to speak to him, the first sentence ever spoken between us “ do you speak the common tongue” 

He responds again a single word “ no !”

I try again “ is no the only word you known ?” He states again “no !” Undoing my dress as we speak I lift my arms trying to cover my breast a move he doesn't allow.

“No !” He says firmer now, removing my hands from my breast, pulling the dress fully off now, making me bare before him.

I seem to block out the rest from my memory, the moments that follow, are painful and hard, blood drips down my legs as he forces himself between my legs, underneath the night sky. The only thought running through my head throughout is the Eco of the voices from my dream chanting within me “you are a dragon, we do not break”, it gives me the strength to endure this most brutal taking of my maidenhead.


	19. Jon

I stare at the fire lost in thought, as my companions mull about me, I note their whereabouts with moderate interest. Tyrion is reading by the fire, leaning against a tree, while Art and Waters are helping Benjen with the new recruiters. Persephone is also sleeping next to me, never one to sit ideally and over think, too stubborn to let anyone or anything bother her enough to think on it for long. 

I pick up a stick playing with the logs resting within the fire, trying to come to terms with everything that has transpired this past month and what is about to come once we reach the wall. My mind flashes to my family, first those left in Winterfell, my brother Robb’ now the lord of the keep and the north, and of course bran, my sweet little brother still lost in his dream.

I pray daily for the news of Bran's awakening, yet nothing comes, I hope at the very least the raven caring good news or ill has simply gotten lost within the wilderness of the north and turned for castle black the final destination for this odd group of men. 

My mind then turns to his mother Catelyn Stark, the lady of Winterfell. She was happy to see me go, a common theme of my life yet she did leave me with colder words than normal. Laying an ill wish of death onto me as I kissed my brother goodbye, yet I can't help but think on her with pity. To see one's child grow weaker each day as he sleeps can't be an easy burden to bear, nor saying goodbye to a husband and two daughters. 

My sisters, Sansa and Arya, Arya I smile, I would miss her the most of all, though able to fly across Westeros in the space of a day, it would be unwise to pop up in king's landing uninvited even for Arya. My fierce sister my favorite sibling in truth, Robb was like my twin, but Arya was my other half, the other outcast in the family, never quite fitting in where she was meant to. 

I was glad she found the support she needed from me and I in her, I often thought it was the god's way of giving me a piece of my mother back so similar in temperament and interest they apparently were.I smile in thought pushing a new log into the fire, to abate the chill of the night.

My mind continues to ponder the life of my mother the fierce she-wolf of the north and my little sister both more interested in fighting and riding than sitting still while ladies gossiped and sewed. Most people said Arya was too similar to her aunt for her own good but I took quite a comfort in the fact that she was now armed with a sword of my making. A skinny thing she named needle, made perfectly for her frame, I hoped it would protect her in the foul city of kings landing when I couldn't.

I also hoped my continued support of her swordplay would put a stop to any rebellious acts, of running away to live a life of her choosing rather than the one expected of a woman of her breading. Arya was so like my mother in spirit I knew where any acts of trying to bound her would lead, a path too similar to think on in truth.

My poor mother a woman so against her fate she ran headfirst into the arms of my father not taking a moment to think about the consequences, of such flipint actions. I know there's was a true love, of that I'm sure but still, it was one that lead to war, destruction and ultimately their deaths. I often find myself wondering what would've happened if she been allowed to be herself. Perhaps then my parents would have been allowed to take there time, come up with a better plan to be together one that wouldn't end in so much pain and loss. 

My eyes snap to a figure approaching from my left, inching closer to Persephone sleeping body, it's one of the prisoners bound for the night watch a rapist if I remember correctly.

“ She'll castrate you faster than you can move” I snap out, never moving my eyes from the fire, my voice as immovable as winter, causing the man to freeze in his tracks. Swiftly turning back to his resting place against the tree bound with the other prisoner, what new recruits indeed.

Art moves forwards shoving him more roughly down, nodding to me in sorry, I nod back accepting his small loss of attention. What a stupid man to think he had a chance to attack or worse rape a sleeping woman. To start Persephone is faster than a snake and would strike out at anyone who came to close. Not to mention there are no less than three men who would kill him for even daring to come to close, myself included.

Tyrion's laugh stops me from my brooding “ not impressed with your new recruits are you ?”

I shrug at him throwing another log into the fire “ same as always” 

He smiles flipping the page of the book he’s reading “ what has you thinking so deeply ?” I turn my head to him “ the questions of life? Or your lady love there” he smiles nodding towards Persephone

I smile back “ no of my family, my sister Arya” 

“Missing them already ?”

“No worried I suppose” I allow myself to admit to him 

Tyrion smiles again humming in agreement “As you should be, kings landing is no places for Wolves”

“No only dragons” I mutter under my breath 

“I didn't quite catch that” Tyrion responds back in a clear high voice, one everyone can obviously hear, he does it as jib towards my own muttering. 

I jib back myself my face taking on a clear expression devoid of any emotion as my tone matches his own “Which was the point”

He smiles in enjoyment, no doubt enjoying our conversation, Persephone did tell me, Tyrion favorite activity other than whoring and drinking was figuring out a puzzle. Especially one with secrets, I'm sure I appeared the perfect activity on this long trip north, there was no whores and limited wine, so a puzzle it was. I turn my eyes to Art and Waters, watching them glance slyly towards me and Tyrion, it was wise they kept their distance. Smart of them, for even though Tyrion had never meant them before the war, stories always mentioned their appearances.

And yet despite the changes done in the name of my protection there was still telling signs of there old lives and looks. Art had the most telling appearance with his purple eyes and famous sword Dawn. Though he had shaved his head and grown a beard, his eyes still stood out a deep purple famous within house Dayne. Even the scars marking more than half of the left side of his face, in a claw-like manner, made him appear all the more a warrior, not a freak or unsightly broken man as he hoped. 

He drew attention wherever he went, they all did in truth, Waters and O’s had followed the same plain, growing out their beards and hair in the hope of distracting people. Though the scars marking their faces did the opposite of Arts, causing people to look away in disgust instead of intrigue like they so often did with Art. 

Still, they all drew some form of attention wherever they went, there sacrifice meaning little as the time went on. People did become use to them with time but still looked on in wonder whenever one or more would enter a room. 

I will admit that they were the fiercest sight when walking behind me, a group of large muscled men, caring swords always upon their backs and hips. Yet I was thankful they still had enough training to be able to hide within shadows when ordered or needed, my loyal king'sguards. 

My eyes snap back to Tyrion as he hums in interest, watching me as I look upon my hidden kingsguard. I think to try and shift his attention away from my men, my need to protect them as strong as there's for me. 

I go with a topic that may interest both of us, my tone open once more clear interest ringing through. “why do you read so much “

He starts at that eyes squinting incompletion at the odd comment, his eyes become light as he ponders over it, before giving into the question answering with a smug yet sad look upon his face.

“look at me and tell me what you see ?”

“Is this a trick” I snap lightly back annoyed at his deflection, a move that causes him to smirk back, his tone now becoming that of a teacher. 

“What you see is a dwarf if I had been born a peasant they might have left me out in the woods to die, alas I was born a Lannister of Casterly Rock things are expected of me, my father was the hand of the King for 20 years “

“Until, your brother killed that King” I snap out, he starts at that before accepting it without argument, as he squints in thought once more staring at me, with a look I can't quite name. 

“Yes until my brother killed him, you sound quite angry about that, as if you are personally involved” 

I glance towards Persephone “ I am” I plainly state as I look back to him “ your brother did the right thing killing that madman, but he wasn't only meant to protect the King,”

I raise my arm stopping Tyrion's response as Art and Waters turn towards us, now openly staring and listening as we talk, their own interest becoming peaked at the mention of Ayers “ but please continue actually answering the question I asked”

Tyrion huffs a mild laugh “ very well, you will see eventually that life is full of these little ironies my sister married the new King and my repulsive nephew will be King after him, I must do my part for the honor of my house” 

He shrugs smiling at his ingenious “ but how, my brother has his sword and I have my mind and a mind needs books, like a sword, needs a wet stone, that's why I read so much Jon Snow” 

We sit in silence for a few moments, me staring back towards the flames while Tyrion's shifts his back against the tree trying to get more comfortable, before he breaks the silence “ and you what's your story bastard?”

I let a smirk through at that, always so clever “Ask me nicely and maybe I'll tell you dwarf”

He smiles again, eyes glancing between his book and me “it's a curious thing, you never did tell me how you did it”

“Did what “ I respond nonchalant, moving to lift Persephone blanket, back upon her shoulder, having falling continuously lower as she moves in a restless sleep. I decide to sit beside her now, laying down as I rub her turned back, hoping to stop or at the very least comfort her mind while in the torment of her dreams. 

Tyrion continues to watch me as I move, the same odd look upon his face, yet he leaves his inner thoughts and question, for the time being, continuing on with our thread of conversation.

“How you turned a band of thieves, rapist, and murders into a proper order of warriors once more, or how after a thousand years of war you made wildings and northers allies, for the first time in ?” He pauses thinking on it “ we'll ever, so how ?”

I tilt my head in indifference “Why do you care”

He flips his books page once more before looking up with a shrug “ well It's an interesting achievement, most would say an impossible one, my father once told me we only find our friends on the battles filed, for there we all face a common enemy, so who are you facing”

My lips thin in a scowl, as I sigh, looking over my shoulder towards my uncle, so Tyrion can't read my face “Maybe I'm the enemy”

He lets out an unconvinced laugh, “ Please You don't seem the type”

I keep my eyes on Benjen as he shakes his head, warning me away from continuing the conversation, I ignore it, answering with a moderated care “ And what type is that ?”

Tyrion snort pulls my eyes back to him “To rule with fear, I doubt there's a cruel bone in your body, Jon Snow” 

With the remainder of my conversation with Robb ringing through my head I decide to deliver a slight threat within my pointed words “You'd be surprised what I'm capable of when pushed, my Lord Lannister,”

He straightens at the sound of a threat, no longer so relaxed as we talk, to keep the peace I let the anger leave my tone turning back to a lords tone of strength.

“but I guess you're right I'm not, but she is,” I nod towards Persephone sleeping form as she shifts closer in a restful sleep.

“It's an odd balance not traditional, I known but they do fear us and love us at the same time, we feed them, we clothe them, we build their shelters and protect them from anyone or anything that may harm them, from that we became unified not under the banner of war or peace, just a simple need of each other”

“And what need was that?” He questions again probing for more 

I smile again, shaking my head in disagreement “I'll tell you when we get there”

Tyrion gasps back in mock “now that's hardly fair”

I shrug back in acceptance of something I won't change, I smile once more at Tyrion still irritated face “You wouldn't believe it, not now and probably not then, but I find impossible thing are easier to believe when standing on a structure 800 feet in the air and looking down upon an impossible act already done”

He snorts turning the page of a book I doubt he’s truly reading still, eyes shifting between me and the pages “You are a dreamer Jon snow”

“No, I do what has to be done nothing more or less”

I see Tyrion roll his eyes, “How very Northmen of you” 

Persephone rolls back and forth wrapping the blanket around her legs in a fit of panic pulling my attention, from my staring contact with Tyrion as I rub her back again in comfort.

“ you should wake her” Arts states out quietly, not wishing to break the peace of the night, on his side of the camp, eyes focused on Sep twisting frame. 

“You know you should hide it better if you don't want me to tell anyone” Tyrion adds on as I shake my head towards Art.

“No Art’ that'd be worse trust me and what would you tell them Tyrion”

He smirks “ well I've seen a lot, just in these two weeks of travel, I know a weakness of yours now, but more importantly her's, lots of people would pay for such knowledge” 

“ and are you going to tell ?” I cut out, eyes becoming hard focused on Tyrion's resting frame, my tone showing the irritation felt towards the threat against Sep.

“No” he states out easily, pausing as my faces pinches in a mix of rage and disbelief raising his hand in peace.

“No, not yet but we might not always be friends and on that day I will have something to use against you and her,” he pauses again looking me dead in the eye.

“ But I do care for that girl, hard not to, yet I think we both know, she reaching her end, dragons don't bow easily and she's a dragon, not a stag, and dragons are known for rising from the ashes of war,if one comes, she'll be hard to beat, I'll need every tool in my arsenal,”

I bow my head agreeing with his words, waving off Art's, hard stance, allowing his hand to release the white-knuckle hold of his blades handle.

“ well on that day Tyrion, I won't care, for will be enemies anyway, not much damage you can do with a thing like that”

“Says a sheltered boy you are” he jokes out 

“I'm not sheltered I just don't like games” I deadpan right back

“Pity I love them” he continues to joke 

“Men like you always do “ Waters chimes in, walking towards us reloading the fire with wood for the night. 

Tyrion looks up at him brows frowned “Men like me? , there are no men like me”

Waters kneels coming into eye contact with Tyrion as he stabs the fire rolling his jaw in irradiation, a tick I'm well use to being on the end of.

“There always men like you, I've traveled to many places and in everyone there always a man who thinks he's smarter than the rest just because he understands the game of life better than all the rest trying to play”

Tyrion hums “And what's wrong with that” 

I chime in myself “ well you can't really be the best if your missing half the bored “

Tyrion eyes move back to me, I should have taken the out Waters offered, as Tyrion shifts his eyes mismatched eyes becoming more focused and probing than before as he stares me down “And what am I missing about you”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

I’m frozen for a moment, lost in his mixed matched eyes trying to think of a way out of his question, then Persephone screams herself awake. Hitting me in the face as I turn to grab her, I fall slightly back as she pants hunched over, face hidden by her hair.

“Sep” I reach for her again causing her to raise her arm in defence, ready to stab me with the wrist daggers always kept within her reach, I never learn.

She wears the wildest look within her eyes, one hunted by images lost within her mind. There's a torment within her, one only her mind seems to wish to relive each time she closes her eyes, never at peace. She pushes me away curling into herself as scoote’s towards a tree resting her back against it as she tries to breathe through her panic. Eyes looking wildly about as if her mind is not yet free of its dream.

“Are you alright” I try again, moving to rest on my knees before her, I grab her hand, pulling it hard enough to grab, her attention. Forcing her eyes to flicker towards my own, before closing in a broken attempt at control.

“Fine” her breath hitches out “ I'm fine” she pushes me away grabbing her blankets as she rolls back to her side, trying to close off the rest of the world, staring at the fire. 

I wave off the men staring at us, there kind enough to listen without words been uttered each moving back to there previous spots. Tyrion been the only one to move completely, joining Art and Benjen by the furthest log, away from Persephone. 

 

I move back to my previous spot, throwing my own blanket over her curled in shoulder’s speaking softly to her back “What was it”

Her eyes shift around looking at the many faces still watching and no doubt listening to us.

“A dream, leave it “ she still breathes out, not truly over her panic induced screams yet. 

I shift into, high valyria, whispering to strain the chance of anyone hearing us. I know Art and Waters speck it, but I doubt they can hear one in every three words, been spoken between us.

“They're Not listening. What was it”

She pulls the blankets higher almost covering her mouth as she burrows in closer within her nest of warmth, needing the comfort. I move to lay down behind her lifting the blankets and holding her close, rubbing my hands along her hunched back in peaceful support, trying to force my way within her highest wall. Persephone was many things but independent was her strongest quality, that mixed with her stubbornness and it became almost impossible. Even for me to get beneath her walls when a dream or vision as I was starting to believe they were, shook her very core.

Yet she does start to relax into my touch, letting loose the fabric from there death grip with her still banged hands. Turing to burrow into me instead, no longer caring who's watching, to in need of my comfort for the moment to execute her iron self-control.

I think she's falling asleep within my arms soothed by the beating of my steady heart and soft touch as my hands continue to rub along her spin in a circular motion. My hand freeze as she squeezes me closer, burning her face closer to my chest. 

Her voice is muffled but clear, as she speaks to me in high valyrian “it was only a dream, just a terrible dream, yet one that might stay within me even in the morning light, of waking”

I squeeze her back, pulling her as close as possible without, forcing her on top of me, she shifts again laying her legs between mine, so we may be closer still, as we wished, my voice is soft, slightly muffled by her hair. “Dreams are like that sometimes, someone once told me, its the place we live out our deepest fears”

I see her close her eyes, burrowing deeper still “I hope so, or else my mind is the darkest place in Westeros” her tone is still anguished filled, touched with whatever sorrow filled her dream.

I’m unsure of what to do, push for answers or allow her the comfort of me, I feel the tears, coming from her eyes now, running down my chest, she never cries, so I decided to push, hoping to take the burden for myself. 

“Why, ”I ask, in my stilled muffed tone, my lips still caught up in her silver hair, as I lay a kiss to the crown of her head in comfort.

She shakes her head against me “it was horrible, there was an endless hallway of doors, behind each one a new nightmare filled with death and worst”

She moves her head, looking me in the face as she rests of her elbow “ I didn't do anything, I didn't stop it, any of it” 

I go to reach for her, intent on pulling her into my arms once more, yet she pushed me away in a violent shove, I can tell she panicking again, her breathing becomes laboured once more in fear as she half breathes out the words“I didn't do anything”   
“I never do anything” at least 6 times each before she jumps up taking off running into the woods.

I yell out after her screaming out for her to stop, but she doesn't listen running blindly into the woods. I jump up calling on ghost to follow her, so I may find my way, without becoming lost in the unmanaged growth of the dark forest. 

I feel Art grab my arm as I strap my sword to my body, preparing myself to chase a panicked Persephone through the night if I have to “Stay, it’s not safe, I’ll go after her” his voice cuts out

I push him off “No stay here watch the camp will be back shortly she, just needs a moment”

“That girl has demons” Art cuts out once more, trying to convince me of Sep unstable nature.

“you would to if you lived through what she has, but it's, not memories haunting her, its dreams, plus she has done it before, I’ll be fine, trust me I know these woods better than you ever could, after all, I ran through them and to the wall alone once and I was only 12, I think at 15 I’ll be just fine”

He goes to stop me once more, I push past him becoming Irritated, I change taking on the tone I use when I must play king an unmovable clear voice, unwavering in its delivery as I stand strong and proud before him “I said stay that's an order”

He bows letting me go, still unable to disobey his king, even if I was once a child he helped raise, I'm not that boy, to him in this moment, but a king. I run into the woods, whistling for Ghost, it doesn't take long, his quiet steps are unheard, yet his coat stands out in this darkened night, with no snow to hide his white fur. 

He leads me but 2 feet from the camp, I can still make out the fire and the shapes of the men, as I turn back and forth between them and Sep hunched frame. I spot her sitting by the stream washing her face, with ice water as she breaths in the cool night air.

“You’ll catch your death out here” I try, out peacefully, she still freezes in her actions, before turning to look upon my awkward figure, shuffling back and forth on my feet to unsure of what to do. Her vibrant sea blue eyes still, seem lost and hunted as she looks at me, yet she still nods to the spot beside her in welcome.

She speaks into the frozen stream refusing to look at me as I sit beside her kneeling frame “He raped her,” my head snaps to her face, shocked by her words, yet she ignores me, talking into the night air, instead of to me.

“Daenerys, a dark-skinned man raped her before my very eyes, I saw the blood dripping down her leg, as he took her maidenhead so violently that she cried, all I could do was tell her, whisper into her ear, again and again, that we are dragons, we do not break”

I lick my lips, swallowing down my revulsions at such an act “did it help”I say to her face.

“I doubt it” she breathes out once more looking to the heavens for some kind of answers as her eyes fill with tears “It only got worse from there”

I grab her hand, getting no response, from her cold, broken frame, lost in her mind as she looks above us. I go for her face instead, pulling it back down forcing her to look at me “It was only a dream”

She cups my face, rubbing her thumb in tender care across my lip “ I killed you” she breaks out trying to pull my hands from her face, I hold her stead refusing to let go.

“It was just a dream,” I say into her eyes “ I’m right here, I’m always going to be right here”

She closed her eyes to me “No, even if I don't, others will, men dressed in black layed a sigh of traitor for you to find, once you saw it, they turned on you, stabbing you again and again, until you laid dying beneath the wall, it weakened it, your blood, Stark blood seeping into the soil of the very wall your ancestors created made it weak, made it break, it fell, it fell because you died beneath it”

Tears leaked from her eyes in pain, in sorrow, I don't yet understand, I don't know how to imagine it watching someone you love die like that. having to see such things as one sleeps, I’ve known death, Ygritte died in my arms, yet it’s not the same. 

Her eyes open into mine, she moves to cup my face “There was more, they died they all died, there was a war, brother killed brother, family destroyed family until there was nothing left, but us, fighting the real war alone, outmatched, underprepared there was no hope, there was no light nothing, you raised from the dead, a life for a life, they burned my sister so you could live and then you killed me and Daenerys in the final battle, you won but lost everything, a king of ashes is what you became”

My own breaths hitches as I start to panic at her words at her vision, “ I’m sorry” I push her away, jumping up as I pace around the stream, in fury, in panic, till I stop, Tartarus flies over us Kilgharrah following close behind there shadows covering the moon. I forget for a moment that the camp is still close, that Art, Waters, and Tyrion will see what I don't what them to. Yet it fades to nothing as I become covered by the darkness of their shadows. 

I kneel by Sep’s broken frame, once more bent upon herself as she hugs her legs “No” i cup her face staring into her eyes “No, whatever that was, it won't be the same anymore, we have our dragons, we believe in the prophecy, if war breaks out will leave ,will conquer before, anyone has the chance to destroy this land, then when we sit upon the throne will, prepare for the real fight, if we die we die, but first we'll live and fight every damn day to keep it so, not just for us, but for our people to, because that what kings do that's what queens do ! We fight, we rule and we win because that what we were born to do”

 

Her eyes become a light with dragon fire as I talk, burning away the hunted and damaged look within them in one foul swoop, she lifts her chin a look of regal power talking over her features as she stands pulling me with her.

Her tone is full of power and strength the voice of a warrior queen once more “You can be the king but will watch the queens conquer”

She chuckles out a wicked smile joining the regal power radiation from her “Where Aegon, Rhaenys and Visenya reborn Jon I dare say it’ll be easy”

I’m pulled in by her as much as she was by me, yet my wolf side manages to pull me back from the edge just in time, not giving into the hunger for dominance and power of a dragon. I stop short, changing my face and tone, intent on pulling her back as well with my own unmovable will set in an unwavering tone “Only if we have to” 

Her face soften just slightly, bending to my own wishes, yet she does lay her own beside my own, unwilling to bend completely to me, “Of course, don’t worry, they're all just sheep who should have stayed conquered, and with a wolf on our side no one will be able to withstand us this time. For you howl at the moon and we rule the sky the perfect blend of ice and fire, magic and beast a power forever tied together through the love of family and blood”

 

She lifts her arm, an action I follow grabbing her hand as we move back towards the camp “let’s get some rest, will need it, you more than me” she finished off with a smile.

There are 8 men staring at us as we re-enter the camp, each looked panicked and worried. I had forgotten the shadows of our dragons eclipsing the camp in darkness, only moments ago. I turn from them, laying down beside Persephone in forced calm, as I shut my eyes, allowing sleep to come. Deciding to leave that problem for tomorrow, my mind to full of fear and worry over Persephone dreams and speech to care what may or may not have been seen by these loyal and unloyal friends. My final thoughts as darkness takes me is of my death at the hands of people I thought I could trust, a dream perhaps or a warning to be wary of those I command, for my death seems to mark the end of the wall, the only thing keeping the real monster at bay this night.


	20. Eddard

2 blasted weeks and we had barely made any progress, the wheelhouse carrying the queen becoming stuck and broken along every pothole left unattended on the King's road. There was no reprieve between Arya and Sansa's fighting, the queen's complaints and Roberts whoring and drinking, I was constantly bothered by something, there was no peace and king's landing was still 2 weeks away. 

Robert my friend and King, how could a man not change an inch in 15 years. He was the same man he was all those years ago at Harrenhal, a man who whored and drank his way from the Vale to the North without a thought or impulse telling him to stop. I tried to teach him to act with honor and thought, to stop and think before dishonoring himself, his wife or bethroned, by committing such vile acts of indignity and scandal.

Yet he never learned acting as he wished, damming the consequences of such acts without any regard of me and his wife. We stop in a large field, resting for the night, I sit in the open staring at the trees as Robert relieves himself upon a tree, their guards mulling about as we sit to eat, waiting and watching in case there King has need of them.

“ Gods,” Robert booming voice calls out as he walks over to our table “This is country, not that piss and shit filled city, where about to call home, I have half a mind to leave them all behind and keep going”

I smile towards the man I still consider my friend, letting out a low chuckle in jest “ I have half the mind to go with you “

He laughs back red-faced and smiling like the boy I once knew “What do you say, just you and me on the king's road, swords at our sides a couple of tavern wenches to warm our beds tonight”

I rub my beard, giving it a jest filled thought “You should have asked me 20 years ago” I laugh out 

He shakes his head frowning as he throws away the crust of bread he was eating “There were wars to fight women to marry we never had the chance to be young”

“I recall a few chances” That causes him to laugh out, mood lightening at the mention of women 

“There was that one oh, what was her name? that common girl of yours? Grace with the great big tits you could bury your face in ?”

I snort shaking my head “Bessie !.........she was one of yours” 

Roberts hits his palm against the table letting out a big laugh, “Bessie's!........ thank the gods for Bessie and her big tits”

He takes a drink, moving his hand back forth as he talks “Your was, err I don't recall Ellen? no mercy? your bastard mother!” 

My face drops at that, swallowing the bile I feel coming at the continued lie, that poor women her named forever tainted by the lie spread by Oswell whent, it was done for Jon, like most lies in my life, yet the guilt always remains as I tarnish her kindness once more, naming her as my whore.

“Wyalla” I cut out, eyes focused on the field refusing to meet Roberts' eyes, as I lie.

“That's it, she must have been a rare wench to make lord Eddard Stark forget his honor, you never told me what she looked like” I turn my head catching his smirk as he takes a bite of his meat.

“Nor will I” I cut out once more, looking at my hands, in disgust at my lies, yet Robert seem to take it as guilt over dishonoring my wife. 

“We were at war Ned, you're too hard on yourself, always was,” his tone is half mocking, half kind.

Until his eyes take in my own irritated appearance, letting out a snort as he frowns shaking his head “I swear if I wasn't your King you'd have hit me already”

I snort back, letting out a huff oh a laugh “The worst thing about your coronation I'll never get to hit you again 

“Trust me that wasn't the worst thing” he reaches into his chest pocket pulling out a scroll and handing it to me “ there was a rider in the night”

I take it from him reading it over quickly as he stares me down, more news about the Targaryens, I fold it back together throwing it on the table as I stare him down my tone on edge “Daenerys Targaryen has wed some Dothraki horse lord. What of it? Do we send her a wedding gift ?”

Robert spits out his meat, his tone taking on that of a mad tyrant “A sharp knife and a bold man to wield it” he bits out drinking again.

I shake my head, preparing for a fight, I knew I should keep silent after the argument over Persephone treatment yet my honor would never allow that “ She little more than a child Robert, leave it be”

“ Leave it be!” He shouts out catching the attention of the guarding knights as his fists slams against the table “After what her brother did to your sister, the women I love, I'll kill every last Targaryen I can get my hands on”

My eyes flash back to his as cold as winter “Well you can't get your hands on this one, can you? There across the narrow sea, if you try and kill her and it fails you'll just create a bigger enemy then before, leave her with the savages, the Dothraki don't cross any water their horses can't drink, every child grows up knowing this”

He huffs his eyes and faces matching that of his house words as clearly as my own, ours is fury “Mark my words” he points towards me 

“ She'll open her legs and start breading, what happens then when a whole new generation of these dragon spawn learn of the war, learn about the kingdom they lost, you think will be safe than”

I sign, looking at him in pity as I frown, trying to make him understand the truth of the situation, instead of the hate and fear seeming to live within him endlessly over losing his crown. 

“Her children will be Dothraki, men known for destroying things better men have built, yes!....... but they won't cross the sea, not for a chair or kingdom they can't see.” 

He snatches the paper from me, holding it in front of my face “You mark my words there’s a war coming to Ned I don't know when, I don't know who will be fighting but it’s coming, and I intend to stop it, anyway I can.” 

We leave it at that, continuing our meal in strained peace, talking about our childhoods in the Vale and the changes done within the North with friendly interest, letting the fight die for the moment, yet I knew it won't be the last. 

For now, I see we are both too different from the boys we once were to live as we once had done, in this moment drinking and eating with my friend and King I know leaving the North was the worst choice I had ever made. 

 

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Panic like I’ve never known pumps through me as I search the woods, Arya my wolf-blooded daughter lost within the unfamiliar tran. All because of the blonde headed prince, the heir to the throne, Robert son, laid bleeding in the woods, as Sansa cried over him in hysterics mumbling about Arya and the butcher boy fighting with swords. She was no real help to upset and mildly drunk apparently to get a proper sentence out of her. So we searched, combing every tree, bushes, and growth looking for her, yet there was no sigh, I started to fear the worst as night took over day, my wolf girl my fierce daughter still lost within, no sign hinting towards the worst, yet my mind traveled there anyway, fearing her death. 

I yell out for her again, praying for a reply, yet no sounds ecos back to me until a distance soldier yells out from behind that they have found her. Thank the gods, I breathe out relieved until I hear the rest of his news, Arya found safe and unharmed yes, but delivered to the royal family instead of the northern host. I storm off upon hearing that part of the news, ripping through the grass and bushes with madden rage, over the insult dealt to me. Who takes a child to the royal family when her father, a lord in his own right and now the hand of the king is manically looking for her within the woods.

I storm into the camp, not stopping for any countries or distractions as I barge into the king's tent, pushing past knights, servants and nobleman alike, trying to reach my daughter I finally see her dirty and covered in bits of the forest yet safe. I look upon her my girl of 9, panicked and scared, hunched within herself as the king, queen, and prince look down upon her in a judgemental stare.

“Arya” I call out to her, 

she spins around rushing to my arms, holding me tight around the waist as she speaks out in a panic apology “I’m sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry” 

I hold her face, looking her over as I try to calm her with my touch “Are you hurt ?”

“No” she all but sobs out in fear, 

I pull her close rubbing her back as I hug her “Hey, hey it okay you're alright” I get a tear-filled nod in response.

My rage snaps then as I feel her shaking, a child should never be afraid of a king's wrath, I turn towards the chair holding my king, letting my voice boom out in rage, looking him dead in the eye “What is the meaning of this ?”

I look towards Arya shielding her body with my own, keeping her from there mixed views of scorn and uniterest “Why was my daughter not brought straight to me?”

The ever proud lioness of Casterly Rock, speaks first her tone, haughty and cold “How dare you speak to your king in such a way”

Robert snaps towards her, brazenly insulting her before this makeshift court “Quite women, or you will feel my fist”

He turns back to me raising his hand in dismissive apology “I’m sorry Ned we never meant to frighten the girl, but we need to get this business done quickly”

The ever cold queen Cersei specks again taking over for Robert in the same cold and haughty tone as before undeterred by Robert threat of violence “Your girl and that butch's boy attacked my son, that animal of hers almost tore his arm off”

Arya my wolfblood child shouts back to the queen's face, no longer afraid with my protective shadow hiding her “That not true, she only bite him a little”

I look at her, shaking my head, reaching for her arm, but she steps back continuing without fear “He was hurting Mika !”

The queen cuts her off again grabbing my attention as I step, to hide my daughter from her pointed eyes “Joffrey told us what happens, you and that boy beat him with clubs, then, set your wolf on him”

“Arya” I snap towards her, pulling her back to my side as she steps around me once more coming towards the queen undeterred.

Her wolfblood coming through, in the form of her stance and tone hard and unmoving as any Northman “That no what happened” 

Joffrey adds his own high pitched voice of a boy not close to being a man into the fray of arguing voices, clutching his banged arm, as he steps towards her “Yes it is, they all attacked me and she threw my sword into the river”

“Liar !” Arya all but yells out 

Joffrey yelling “ Shut up" right back to her

I'm sure it would have gone on for some time, for that was the way of children, but the king stops it yelling out as his eyes bounce between them “That's enough”

“She tells me one thing, he tells me another, seven hells, what am I to make of all this, Ned where’s your other daughter”

I frown towards him, unable to comprehend for a moment where this is going, still, I state out, unwaveringly “ In bed asleep” hoping it will be enough to keep her out of this too.

But of course the queen won't allow me even that, smiling smugly as she ushers towards a guard talking towards the king all the while, eyes never moving from the door “She’s not, Sansa come her darling “

I speechless for a moment as they bring her in, she looks at me in fear, as much as she does the king and queen, swallowing a few times as she pulls her coat close, dressed unsuitably for such a crowd, I frown as she stands beside Arya, pulling away from us both and standing a few steps closer to the king.

“Now” Roberts booming voice comes out once more pointing to her, as his eyes search her face, trying to make contact with her lowered eyes. “Tell it all and tell it true, it’s a crime to lie to your king”

Sansa looks towards me and then to Joffrey searching for something I don't know if I can give her, there’s too much information missing, I see her swallow once, fidgeting in fear as she stutters over her words eyes still somewhat lowered from the kings.

“I don't know, I don't remember, it all happened so fast, I didn't see” 

Arya snaps, grabbing Sansa hair, in an unspeakable move, pulling Sansa’s head down as she screams “liar, liar, liar,”I yell towards her pulling her away, from her sister, now twisted hair. Ordering her to stop at once as I pull her arms down and into my iron embrace.

I’m forced to look upon the queen as she smiles in mirth, happy at the turn of events, painting my youngest daughter now in a negative light  
“ She's as wild as that animal of her’s, I want her punished”

Robert has the audacity to look conflicted as his eyes shifts between his wife and my daughter, his tone strained as he barks out his response “What would you have me do whip her through the streets”

Roberts shakes his head, laying his palm down, as he shifts within his makeshift throne “ Damit children fight, it’s over”

I'm grateful for my good-natured friend at the moment, a man who understands the nature of children, even if he showed little care for his own, he was still a boy at heart, a man who loved fighting and drinking his way through every bar and tourney, I was glad for it at that moment, probably the first time in my life was I happy for Robert nature towards fighting.

Yet his queens pushes on, her tone taking on that of a protective lioness, unwilling to let the matter lie without first taking her pound of flesh “Joffrey will bear these scars for the rest of his life”

I almost pity her as Robert, turns towards his son, his face the mirror of mild disgust towards the notion of a son who can't win his own battles, frowning as he bits out towards him “You let that little girl, disarm you ?”

Robert snorts shaking his head, as Joffrey's starts to pout, I’m sure he’s feeling humiliated at his father's obvious disgust towards him, revealed to the many courtiers gathered about us. 

Robert turns back to me and my children, nodding in peace his tone now resigned “Ned see that, your daughters disciplined and I’ll do the same with my son”

I manage to hold in my sigh of relief, bowing my head and responding in a thankful tone, of friendships “Thank you, your grace” I say turning from them, as Robert stands to follows.

I send up a thank you to the gods for the end of this conflict, thankful we have come out unscathed, yet my peace is short-lived as the queen voice rings through the crowd once more. “What of the direwolf ?”

We all turn back to her, halting in our progress of leaving the hall to look at her with a mixture of facial expression, some annoyed, but mostly the worried one of me and my daughters “What of the beast that savaged your son”

I look at Roberts as he sighs in irritation “I forgot the damn wolf” he declares out, turning towards an unknown knight.

The man responds nonchalant “We have found no traces of the direwolf your grace”

“No, well so be it” Roberts nods out, we move to leave the hall once more, but the damn queens speak out once more in infinite knowledge “They have another wolf”

I see Robert freezes thinking it over for a moment before he nods his head in acceptance “So be it” are his final words moving to walk by me, I try and stop him, letting loose his common name 

“Robert ?”

He shakes his head, coming close to my face “A direwolf no pet, get her a dog, she’ll be happier for it” his arm brushes mine, leaving the hall in a swift walk.

I swallow, trying to tamper down my guilt and panic, as that one sentence send my daughters into a panic all their own.

“He doesn't mean lady does he ?” Sansa soft voice comes out, barely above a whisper, as she looks at me, with a worried expression adorning her face.

One that quickly changes to rage-filled panics as she looks about the hall, turning to the queen as Arya grabs her arm in support “No, no, not Lady, Lady good she didn't bite anyone!”

Arya own voices joins her “Lady wasn't there, you leave her alone” 

I feel Sansa grab onto me as I stand to look at the kings retreating back, “Please, stop them, don't let them do it, please please it wasn't Lady”

I pull away from her trying to find a way out of this but I fail, unable to find any way to save her , I make one last effort calling out to Robert in an anguished torn tone “Is this your command” his stone face as he turns from me is his only response, I drop my head, in sorrow, feeling unimaginable guilt at failing the direwolf and my daughter so.

I turn back to the queen as she questions the location, of the wolf in a smug tone, an overjoyed merriment coloring her tone and features at having at least one of her wishes answered. I put a stop to her cruelty as she orders, the king executioner Ser Ilyn Payne to end, Lady’s life, cutting off the queen in my own hard and furious tone, throwing away her own orders, with my command.

I halt ser Ilyn with my hand, bending my head to Ser Jorah the leader of my guards “Take the girls back to our rooms” he reaches for them without complaint, pulling them away from the unfolding scene, with practiced ease. 

The sound of my daughter cries filling my ears as I stand proud and unmovable before this manipulative cruel golden queen “If it must be done, I’ll do it myself”

 

She can't even let that lie, her face twisting in a smiling frown, “ Is this so sort of trick ?”

I let the impulse to mock her lie, for the most part, these damn southers have no honor or traditions anymore, to wrapped up in there wealth and jewels to know a thing about nature and the balance and respect it demands from us.

I look her in the eye, unflinching as I respond “No, the wolf is of the North, she deserves better than a butcher”

I storm from the hall, marching in the same manner as I entered, yet carrying anew sorrow, one heavier to bearer than any I have before. I hear Sansa cries, from her room, as she fights against Jeor, yet I keep walking coming to kneel by ladies resting form.

She was such a sweet wolf, the most even-tempered of them all, I unsheath my dagger, pausing in unwanted fear, Jon words ringing through my head once more. “Their a gift from the gods my lord, there’s one for each of the Stark children, we were meant to have them” a gift from the gods, and yet here I sit readying myself to end one's life, as if she was a deer or boar, nothing more than an animal, not the proud sigil of my house, or a thing born of the old magic of the North. 

I let a single tear fall, as I bring the dagger down ending the life of the most peaceful direwolf every born. I look up into the sky, as a broken howl breaks the silence of this once peacefully night, I don't yet know the consequence of this one act. Yet as the howl ring’s through my weary soul, I know I should of let her go instead of bowing to a king unworthy of such a high honor. For the killing of a direwolf, was seen as an unforgivable act once, for some believed they were the very soul of the north. 

Many years later some would say the old lord of Winterfell could never have known the magic that stirred so far in the north, to far gone and blind to hear the whispers of it call coming through the wall. Yet perhaps if he did the world would have been safe from the old god's rage at losing such a rare gift once more. Thrown away for the amusement of another southern king, for no one heard the rage of the old gods that night, no one except the 4 sleeping boys of Winterfell who laid sleeping within their beds. Huddled close by there own direwolves, each protecting their kin with the link of magic, not yet remembered this far north.

 

For in the moment of their sister death, they followed the cry of the last living girl of there pack, calling forth a powerful howl filled with sorrow and loss one so powerful it awoken each boy from there sleep, in a panicked scream. All except the one more powerful than them all, Bran the seer, simply opened his eyes, rejoining the world of the woken with a slow blink of his Tully blue eyes, pulled forth by the call for war echoing within the howl of there direwolves sorrow filled crys.


	21. Jon

My eyes snap open as I hear the call of my Direwolf howling through the night, it's a sorrow filled one, unlike any he had made before. Normally so silent and peaceful in his nature that it shakes me to my core, sending the feeling of dread straight to the pit of my stomach, as I watch him leave the cover of the woods. I let out a breath of panic into the cool air as his red eyes shine in the night as he lays a soft nudge against my face, I pat his head, linking our eyes in primal connection until he lets loose a howl once more, one that sees to echo on endlessly in the night. 

Apart of me wants to jump up and call Tartarus to me, so I may fly hard and fast across the north and Westeros in the search of my family. Intent on checking on there well been and safety, but the sane part of me stays my hand knowing the trouble that may bring. Those traveling in the party had enough unanswered questions after the incident with Persephone and the shadows of the dragons, not 3 days before. After 9 years of hiding them, I couldn't risk anyone finding out until I was ready. Plus Tyrion was a constant danger, he was smart and sly and hadn't tried to hide the confirmation for where his alliance will lie if a war was ever to break out between us, friendship was sweet, but blood even Lannister blood meant more to him. 

 

So I sit patting Ghost soft white fur in a calming manner, trying to dispel any lingering fear or pain within him as we stare at the fire. I see Benjen shadow walking around the edge of the forest, on patrol for the night, I almost call out to him. I’m in need of his stoic and strong presence to stop my restless thoughts and remind me where my presence is currently needed most. He has spent years away from our family, away from every war and crisis that has befallen the north, yet I stay silent, moving to lay back down upon the cold ground of my country, pulling Ghost, close so he may comfort me thought out the rest of this long night. 

 

\------------------------------------=========-------------===================================================

 

 

The Morning doesn't come soon enough, breaking through the clouds mere hours after I finally found the undisturbed darkness of sleep. I'm sore and tired my back aching as I roll over, coming to stand up, once more, I try to stretch out the miss used muscles of my shoulders and back. Yet the move causes more pain instead of less, causing the muscles to spasming in strain, instead of relief, I yell out in pain, causing Persephone to roll over looking up at me in worry.

Her voices is horse with sleep, as she rubs her tired eyes “ What's wrong?” 

 

I ignore her rubbing my back in silence trying to realise the pain from the continued spasms still radiating throughout my lower back, I don't feel her presence until she’s standing behind me needling my back with the practiced ease and strength of one use to dealing with such ailments. The spasms finally gives way to her firm touch releasing me back to my perverse state of uncomfortable soreness, instead of paralyzing pain.

My voice is still horse with sleep as I turn to hug her shoulder laying a tender kiss to her forest ridden hair “ Thank you” she smiles sleepy, as she lays her own kiss to my chest “ And good morning“ I add on as I release her, getting an easy laugh from her in way of response.

I've always loved her like this, free and happy, the north puts her at ease, like no other place. Here within the openness of my home she’s unbound and unbroken, by the stigma of her name and looks free to do as she like, whether it’s laugh, fuck, fight or rule she free to do it all. I smile at her as she shakes lose our bedrolls moving with the practiced ease of a traveler, yet her steps are hurried compared to my own. I’m sure she’s no doubt eager to reach the wall, and eventually the wilding settlement, that rest within its border.

For it is her favorite place in all the world, the one place made almost completely in her image, filled with warrior women, strong men and the old and new alike, a home built on the backs of a joint idea and one that welcomes us completely, without the need of titles and names only the deeds accomplished in good faith by us. 

“ Come on” she shoves me playfully, hitting me square in the stomach with my bed wrap “you're the one who wanted to reach Castle Black by midday meal! ”

Her words pull me back from my joyfully musesing, reminding me of my earlier wish, to return to Castle Black, faster than previously intended after receiving some worrying news about Mande Rayner gathering army. My eyes spot Ghost pacing around the camp, still, on edge after last night midnight howling, his on edge mood, sets mine back into place. 

Causing my mind and mood to drop back to the earlier rage and panic I felt last night, during the incident, I take long strides towards my horse, packing my bags and restrapping the saddle in mere moments, now intent on riding hard and fast for castle black without any more distractions. 

I move to rise myself up onto the horse‘s back, but am halted as Persephone calls out to me “ Jon ?” I turn to look at her standing by the fire as Art fils her bowl with soup. “ Eat first, an hour or two more won't hurt anyone ” 

I shake my head as I rub my horse’s neck in a soothing motion, as he starts at Ghost raised hackles as he stands at attention by my side. “We have to go !” I state out in a firm tone.

She simply looks at me wide-eyed, unbothered by my unmovable tone, or the current rush of actions “Jon, eat, whatever's wrong, won't change within 4 hours or 3, where no good to anyone starving and tired, now are we”

She smiles knowingly, ever the trickster, using my own words against me, she knows I can’t very well, fight back against my own argument or words. I frown towards her obvious annoyance coloring my features, as I come to join her, snatching the raised bowl from her hands, in slight violence, sitting on the ground in brooding silence as I stare at the faces of the new recruits, in unmasked disgust as we eat in silence. 

We all finish the meal, quickly enough, not losing more than 30 minutes of daylight as we eat and finish packing up the camp all within companionable silence. It seems all parties involved have sensed my sour mood and taken the wise choice not to push my restraint by doodling or chatting unnecessarily as we eat, an act that would naturally extend the time of our meal from minutes to hours in its distraction.

I nod towards my knights and cousin as we raise ourselves up and upon the backs of our horses once more. I turn my horses head away from the path, turning to look back at Tyrion's and Benjamin still unhorsed bodies, each not ready to leave, as they look over the recruits and grain loads. 

“Will see you at Castle Black” I call out towards them, waving them off as, I turn back towards the path. Kicking my horse into a fast sprint intent of reaching Castle Back before the midday meal, I hear Persephone and my knights follow my example kicking their own steads into action, rejoining me in a fast-paced sprint towards the ice wall of the north. 

 

\--------=======================------------------------===================================-------

 

The horn blows as we reach the gate at castle black, it been a hard ride, one that pushed the endurance of man, beast and horse alike. I dismount to the welcome assembly of the men of castle black mixed with my own loyal soldiers and free folk alike. A smile breaks through as my eyes follow the row of men, none seeming to fit together in there mixed clothes and appearance, a fitting thing really considering the generally hate and dislike found amongst them. 

I let out a laugh as O’s pushes his way through the watching crowd, he was a nobleman once born Ser Oswell Of house Whent a most loyal family to my father cause. Now he stands before me looking more free folk than Nobleman with each passing year he spends ruling them in my stead. His beard all but reaches the middle of his chest now, a dark brown that looks dirty and as unkempt as the rest of his haggard form. His eyes are still a bright blue though he appears to have a new scar over his right eye, one still anger and red as it tries to heal. I doubt he's bothered by it like I am, I'm sure he’ll wave it off as a fun sparing accident or simply done in the duty of protecting me and mine as all the other we're done before it.

I hear Art yell out to him opening his arms for a brotherly hug “ O’s you hairy bastard, two years brother and somehow I didn't miss that scarred face,” we all laugh at that as they push away from each other Waters pulling him close for a swift hug of his own.

“You think I missed yours, you purple eyed pretty boy” O’s jokes out slapping Art across the face hard enough to leave a mark.

I decided to interfere, opening my arms for a hug of my own “ you look, well” I smile at that slapping his face back for art as I smile eyes pointed towards his scar “ some new damage though! What happened ?” 

O’s shifts pushing me off him “ bloody Mance who else? Will be having a war with the rest of them soon enough!” 

I nod my face turning into a scowl as I think on the waste of life that madman is trying to bring upon us and all because he didn't want to bow to a boy. I’m almost pulled back into the past when, the lord commander Jeor Mormont comes before me, nodding his head in resignation of my status, I move on greeting the assembled men alongside Persephone and my knights. As we slowly make our way inside the old castles hall, joining the rest of the castles men for the midday meal as we planned.

It a quite a fair, the men often sullen in nature at the notion of my presence within there hall. I'm welcome and unwelcome in equal measure, here I have the loyalty of only half of them and the hated but mild respect from the rest. The wildings don't help much gathered in the far back eating and drinking in a loud wild mucks of unrefined men, there's no help in gathering me more support within castle black halls. Yet I can't help smirk at their antics as Tormand hits one of his companions over the head with his cup as he tries to steal the meat piled high atop his plate 

I turn from them eating in silent contemplation as Persephone sits regally beside me chatting with our great uncle master Amon. His blind and old but still one of the few with our blood running through his veins, his eyes are white and lifeless no longer the brilliant purple that they once claimed to be, his hair is also gone turned white and frail like the rest of his hunched and tired body. 

 

I feel Art and waters miss trusting gaze on me as I eat, the tensions is still pabllay after my rub off of there continued questions over the shadows that filled the sky not three days before. A part of me wants to spill it all as I did with O’s when he followed me to the wall all those years ago. As I looked upon his scarred And weather beaten faced I'm transported back to 3 years ago when I took the greatest risk of all as I ran from Winterfell and into the hard And cold life of the wildings of the north.

 

\------============--------========--------=====---=-=-=-==--=-===-=-=-=-=-=-====-=-=-=-===--=-=

 

 

Jon age12 

It’s mad, I'm mad I think over and over in my jumbled mind, as I ride through the wolf woods of the north. This is my home my land and my place of safety and yet I’m leaving it all behind to help people who would wish me nothing but dead. Wildings, Free folks or Northmen no matter what name you gave them the fundamentals traits of there bean was to raid, kill and steal anyone and anything that got in there way. 

 

So I'm mad, mad and stupid yet I know somewhere deep inside me that I'm doing the right thing, they're still people, still my people that I need to help and save. Two years we have had increased raids, increased sights along the wall and in our lands and yet nothing, there were no plans, no inquisitions into why the sudden change in their habits. So I decided to do it myself, I flew over the north looking for any raiding parties within my uncle's lands. They were easy to find and easy to capture on the back of an ice dragon, yet they were fearless as they looked me down answering my questions with resounding fire in their words. Each explaining the monster steering in the north and the fear and plans of one Mance Rayder to bring his people together and conquer the north in blood if need be, in the hope they may hide behind the magic wall of the north. 

Their tale was something out of a story hard to believe and even harder to accept yet, I was there above them on the back of a beast of old magic and couldn't help be drawn into them. These fearless men unmoving in their tale even as I held their life in my hand, I let them live, let them run south with the most dangerous of knowledge in their minds. Yet I was happy with my choice to kill a man for simply knowing something was wrong and I refused to become that kind of man.

I flew home after that my mind lost and warped in the tales of monsters and ice men. when I finally reached the walls of Winterfell I took up the task of finding the truth of there claims and what I found was unwavering proof. For in the tale of the long night a hero rose to vanquish the dead that came to bring about an endless winter to the land of man, laying to waste everything the living had created and destroying all life that stood against them.

The tale propelled me forward forcing me to create plans and ideas to help bring the wildings into the fold of the northern house’s. But no one would listen not the men who raised me or my brother, all claiming the same thing, that it couldn't be done we had been enemies too long to ever live in peace, but that was a notion I couldn't stand for.

So here I am climbing a top my dragon and flying hard and fast across the north heading over the wall for the first time in my life, I take a deep breath, leaning forward and hugging Tartarus close for warmth as we fly through an ice storm of the north. 

We find the camp by the next night it was large and roughly made, so it could move and shift with ease as they traveled throughout the barren north. I land Tartarus a few miles away taking a path by foot as I move into the camp, I’m smart enough to steal some clothes, now blending in with the other young men of the camp. It takes about three weeks to figure out the head players of these men learning of there natures and plans with quiet patience.

I come dead in the night slipping through his tent flap with a steel of will only bolstered by the knowledge that Tartarus is flying only moments above us, a powerful force that will stop any harm that could befall me with one lose of his ice breath.

He doesn't look scared or worried as I stand above his once resting form, his eyes are tired and annoyed more than anything else as he comes to stand before me “ well finally you come to me, so what will it be death, war or peace” 

I'm sure he can see the shock on my face as we stare each other down his mouth rises in moderate mirth pouring us both a drink as he sits back down “ so you knew ? That I didn't belong here” 

“ I was around highborns my whole life, I saw the way they looked at men like me, I saw the way they carried themselves, you have it to, I don't know who you are but I know your no wilding” he delivers his words with resounding strength, yet an openness that allows me to relax enough to sit in front of him.

“ Across the wall my name is Jon Snow, I'm the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, or so they believe my real parents were a prince and princess of the Targaryen reign” I steal myself to him, trying to copy a tone of a King as we talk he lets out an ah not doubt having lived through the war either as a soldier or man of the night watch. 

“So you are a King? You wish to rule us” he tone carries a hint of rage now at such a notion, I manage to calm him by closing my eyes as I shake my head 

“No, I want to save you, I spoke to some of your people they told me what was out there, why your running from your land and homes and how after so many years of hate why they're coming together, I believe the legion, I believe the monsters that are coming for us magic has returned to the world” 

“ you want to save us “ he blows up at that storming towards me “ we don't need to be saved by some southern shit,” his grip is tight around my neck as he spits in my face

“What kind of man are you to come here, hoping to rule us, I know what you want, will be nothing more than bodies on the ground as you win back your throne “ 

I rip his hand free from my neck, pushing him back with surprising strength “ No, I don't care about that, I want to help you so you don't die in this frozen land, becoming nothing more than bodies for a dead army, I will ask you to fight for me one day, but not for a throne or crown, but for the living” 

We grow silent then staring each other down, until he breaks it “ no I don't believe you, you want power I can see it in your eyes”

Inside I start at his comment, it’s a worrying thing, for I already have power a power unlike he could ever understand yet, I fear myself at this moment, fear of what I might become as the years go on, yet I push it away, focusing my attention on trying to win Mance to my side 

“I already have power, I didn’t need, I didn’t want it, yet I have it anyway and it’s a power I will willed to the best of ability as long as I have it”I speak out proud and unmoving

He drinks deeply from his cup, slamming it back down as he stares through me “we both know that’s not true, you see that's the thing about power, it attracts the worst and corrupts the best”

I’m only a boy of 12 not yet jaded and hateful like this hard man before me, I’m naive and hopeful even been beaten down and humiliated as the bastard of Winterfell I was always picked back up. Shown through lessons and deeds the power a man can have over someone life and the good that can be achieved by wielding it. 

Yet Mance’s words will stay with me throughout my life, a lesson I will hold close to my conscious as power is thrusted upon me time and time again. A power I never seek or ask for yet handed to me by those who wish me to lead them, I think I understand him now as we stare each other down.

Mance is a ruler through the will of others never his own and I learn for the first time that a man chosen isn’t the same as one, born to it or craving it, there a pureness to him. A pureness that only comes by one who cares for the people above all other things even there own happiness, I now understand that we are more alike than he could ever know. It’s a pity he doesn't like me, a pity he doesn’t trust me, if he did we may have been able to stop any bloodshed or waste of life, he’s stubborn but so am I, but his stubbornness is unmovable in this one thing. I can see it in his face and eyes, he will never bow to me or anyone else, nor will anyone else who follows him.

I see his eyes dart to a knife laying embedded in the fire pity, it a quick flash of his eyes a move I would've missed if I wasn't so focused on his face. His men are swift as they rush into the tent in a blinding speed holding my arms in their iron grip before I can even reach for my sword. I kick and fight, earing myself hard hits to my face that almost knock me out as I fight them.

I struggle and fight as the drag me through the gathered crowd and atop a stone platform, I know what this is, an execution for my lies. I’m to be a message to the wilding gathered something to inspire them, the son of a southern king or lord depending on how he will name me, dying by there own kings hand, will empower them to fight hard, banned together more tightly as they move towards the wall. 

I’m pushed ruffly down by one of the few wilding’s I like a big ginger bastard named Torrmand giant bane. He’s taller than any man I’ve ever seen with a messy beard and scarred face, he’s a hard man one quick to laugh and joke and one unforgiving when you slight him, as I've witnessed many times throughout my weeks here. 

The crowd stares at me uncaring yet interested as Mance comes to join his men on this rock platform, “Can i strand ?” i question to him turning my head to look him straight in the eyes, he bows his head in permissions waving Tormand off my shoulders allowing me to stand proud and unbroken one more.

As I look upon the crowd I see my moment, not only to escape but to inspire their awe for me, in the hope I may be able to lead them myself in a march for peace. I push Mance away with my arm, causing him to look shocked and enraged at my disrespect “Only a moment, we hear the last words of a dead man in the north do we not”

He bows his head in reluctant acceptance once more waving his arm to the increasing number of crowded wildings forming “Go ahead speck, they won’t understand you, but the gods might so let them here your last words”

I bow my own head to him, undoing my swords from my waist as I stab it into the ground kneeling by it as I hold the pommel in both palms. I hope to appear the image of a young king kneeling before his people as I open my eyes to look upon them.

I hear Mance’s broken voice by my head, “I don’t want to kill you, Jon Snow, you would have been quite the man, dame the gods” if I had looked upon him I might have seen the shaking of his head and utter conflictions as I remain kneeling in the hard ice covered stone of this land.

He was in awe of me like all others watching, for I appeared as I wanted a powerful man, but one willing to bend and change as I need and one who could lead them to any place I wished. The mountain was silent the wind the only source of sound beyond the quiet breaths and steps of these people.

I swallowed one's looking up to the skies before opening my eyes and looking to the crowd with the soul of a king seeping through them, but my voice is that of a man many years my age, a soulful passionate tone that forces you to listen as I speak my final words.

“I don’t want to rule you, I’m not your king, yet I will make you bow this once before me as I sigh of deference to my rule” a laugh rings out amoughts the warrior men, a laugh I’m annoyed to find Tormand started yet I push on smiling as I wait for them to stop.

My voice remains the same as i speak over the last echoes of laughter,i decided to stand above them now, young and average yet i give off the same eco of power in my stance as that in my voice as i talk.

“You can laugh, but you won’t be in a moment, I have the power of a god and with that power you will kneel before me as all men have before, I don’t wish for your death or lives only your alliance as I take you south of the wall, there are lands and places I have prepared for you filled with clothes, food, and shelter the likes of which you have never known”

My eyes scan there face seeing nothing but confliction as they absorb my words 

“They will be my gift to you and under the banner of my protection, you will live in peace!.... All of those who wish to join me will kneel now and make there way to castle black in a month time I will open the gate and those of you who kneel before us will become my people from this day until there last, now who's with me ?”

There's only silence now as they stare up at us, the only man I see kneeling is one I recognize as Ser Oswell Whent my knight, my friend and one of the men I see as a father. He kneels proudly in the snow a look of pure respect and joy upon his face as he looks up at me standing on a platform created by nature. 

I hear the screech of two dragons as I stare at my friend, relieved that Persephone answered my message in time to save my ass, I know two dragons will send a better message than me alone ever could.

I feel Mance’s hand on my shoulder as he whispers “Enough you said your words, let this end?”

I roll my shoulder pushing him off as I smile “I told you I have the power of a god” the dragons land behind me then, these large beasts of legion, letting loose an almighty roar that sends the other man to the ground beside my rock as I remain standing tall above them having been prepared for such force.

Persephone is beautiful and godlike as she straddles her dragons back I’ve only ever seen the female dragon once but Kilgharrah is beautiful with golden scales flickering with shades of red shining through, in a rare mix of color, though it is her dragons eyes that are the most off-putting, so dark they look black and soulless a terrifying combination of magic and power.

My own dragon is a sight unlike anyone will ever see again he's not even fully grown yet measure almost 70 feet longer than Persephone much older Dragon. I look up at his fierce features and size as he stands a golfing 230 feet long with a 210 feet wingspan. His eyes are a bright red the color of flame and my father's house, while his scales are the most brilliant white, with the odd black lines shining through a perfect combination to represent my mother's northern house. He is a sight anyone would cower before, yet I stand unmoving as he lowers his head screeching out a loud roar once more into the frozen land sending out a command of his own to kneel before him.

“I won't ask again whoever wishes to join me kneel now and we will see you at the wall in a months time all who wish not to, run and I will let you live”

Nearly all run from us fleeing into their homes and clans as if the dragons were hunting them from above for sport or food. Few stay more than I bargained for in truth I watch a man named rat skin dragging Mance away by his furs as Tormand kneels before me.

He's the first to speak becoming the leader of his people now in the absence of Mance “We will follow you, Jon Snow,, but never ask us to kneel again, a months time will meet you at that gate, if we're not let in then I hope the gods will curse you for such an act” he walks away same as the other each walking away with their eyes still trained on us in awe.

I move to climb my dragon pulling o’s along and onto his back as he’s frozen in shock my finally message ring throughout the still watching people as we ascending to the air once more “ you will be my people now, under the protection of both of us i pray more of you join those traveling to the wall in a months time, we will know peace, I swear this to you”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

We ascending into the air moving swiftly throughout the skies and on our way to Castle black and into the hard homes of the men of the night’s watch. I cheat this time showing Ser jeor the enemy awaiting him if he refused my proposal, yet his respect is still given in kind as he helps mold me into a ruler.

With time and effort we come to a relative peace between free folk and the nights watch, one neither party is overly happy with but one they accept regardless of their personal issues.

I come to be the beacon of peace between them all earning the title of king amongst the wildings and gaining minor respect within the night's watch after leading the charge against invading wildings who attacked the wall in defiance of both me and my rule over their people. It takes a year of planning, and battles until finally I'm no longer needed as the main source of rule between the two factions. 

I know Persephone helped the most with the night watch using a good deal of our joint money to buy the supplies and food so desperately needed by them, it earns me respect and minor thanks from the no longer starving men. Until we have peace a fragile one but still peace nonetheless, Mance remains a problem attacking the wall many times over wasting his effort and people lives over the rage he feels at losing to me.

I pity them, I only wanted to help only wanted to bring them into the fold of the north, never once asking them to fight any battles they didn’t wish to fight. Only enforcing the laws of the land that I believed necessary to stop the more brutal ways of their lives until nearly we are one. I train with both, fight, eat and sleep with both groups until I can leave and go home for longer periods of time, leaving O’s in charge of the whole unruly lot.

I’m glad for my madness then happy that over the years the number of only 300 people have turned into almost 7000 men, women and children all living through the once abandoned lands around the wall happy, safe and protected by me and the night watch as we live in unified peace with the rest of the northern lords.

On my 14 birthday almost two years after I came to Ser jeor with my inmoverbale order he gifts me his family valyrian sword named longclaw, he states unwavering and proud beside O’s as their hands clasp my shoulders each states the words out in northern tainted tongue “it's a blade fit for a king, use it well in the war’s yet to come”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

My eyes snap open shifting to O’s and Art voices as I zone in on their conversation, there tone and topic pulling me from my lost and brooding mind.

“I’m feeling some tension between you two what's wrong ?” O’s ponder’s out bumping Art arm off the table in annoyance at his unresponsive body.

Waters answers for him his eyes coming to rest on me as I turn my head just in time looking at Persephone and Amon instead of them, his tone begrudging and annoyed as he responds back to O’s open-ended question.

“Something happened on the road north, something unexplainable, apparently, our charge here has more secrets than fingers”

That one sentence cause O’s to spit out his drink choking on his drink as he lets loose a strangled laugh “You have no idea, brother, come” he nods to the door coming to stand as he moves to walk out.

The others following him going to move outside and away from any distrusting ears, my final interaction for the day is a nod towards O’s giving him my permissions to finally lay it all bare to his brothers in arms after three years of lying I can no longer deny him this wish. Though I fear nothing but temptation as I leave the hall going to join the now gathering party to welcome Tyrion and my uncle to castle black.


	22. Persephone

I stare upon the courtyard of castle black with a mixture of bewilderment and disgust. There in the training ring stands proud Alliser Thorne the master at arms of castle black, he is a hard man a face made of grim lines and sorrow. His hair is short and grey balding heavily at the top with cold black eyes that stare unfeeling upon the new recruits.

The knowledge of the perilous balance me and Jon must maintain between the leaders of the night watch and our own soldiers and people is the only thing that stays my hand as I look upon this cruel man. His actions are as cruel as they are pointless I've trained with many men and known that cruelness is never the way to instill knowledge into someone's head.

My face twists into a pinch of pain as I watch him order men to beat this poor fat boy into the ground with unrelenting strikes, the poor boy cowering in open fear as he cries out a plea of peace within the pain-filled words of I yield released time and time again as the boys continue to strike him.

I clench my hand upon the railing in painful restraint trying to rain in my temper as I continue to watch this sicking displays of misused power. Every fiber of my being wants to jump over this rallying and beat Alliser bloody but years of living in king's landing and my own still injured body halts my actions. 

I spot Jon pushing through the crowd with thunders step, his eyes cut into snake-like slits of rage as he looks upon the men beating the poor coward into the ground. I take brisk steps as I walk down to the landing of the courtyard still unsure of my stance on the current issues taking place. I known its wrong to beat a defenseless boy, but as a lady, I understand better than even Jon that not all fights are worth the backlash of problems they will cause. Least of all for a stranger who is likely not worth the mountain of headaches I know this current pissing contest will cause. 

Jon excels in restrained fury, but it’s biting at the edges as he hits the men away with gracefully punches, landing crushing blows to the weakest parts of their body without a backwards glance. 

His eyes appear to be a deathly black as Jon comes to stand nose to nose in front of Ser Alliser using his body to shield the fat boy from view.

Jon's tone matches his darkened eyes as his voice rings out in menacing tightness “ he said he yields, yet you order them to beat him like dead meat”

Allister tone matches Jon in taut rage “these are my men bastard, I'll train them as I see fit” 

“ you will train then as men! Not sticks you wish to beat until they break” Jon spits right back in fiery outrage

“ get up” I quietly whisper to the boy as I pull him to a standing position, taking a few steps back from the two men becoming a shadow in the wake of there contained argument standing in the wings in case Jon needs my intervention.

Ser Alister laugh is harsh and mocking “well, well it seems the bastard is in love, what's wrong grown tired of your silver love looking for a new fat pig to sink your teeth into?” 

If possible I see Jon's eyes and face become even harder in their pinched fury as he takes a step closer towards ser Alliser red face “ a man who was once loyal to her mother's house should watch his words or I might just remind you what it feels like to fight a trained man, not these green boys you like to play with, in your twisted and misplaced rage” 

Ser Alliser seems to gain enough of his senses back as he steps away from Jon murderous face crossing his arms in a defensive stance meant to excel power. But comes off looking little more than that of a protective self-hug.

His voice is still filled with refined strength as he calls out to the gathered recruits still training in half-hearted attacks as they watch and listen through the exchange. “ we're done for the day you lot go clean the armory and take the squalling pig with ya, it’s all your good for” he finishes off striding away in bitter steps heading toward the commander office without pause.

Jon turns away from him the rage seeming to leave him with each passing moment out of Ser Allistor presence yet his eyes and stance are still menacing as they turn to look at the fat boy, who tries to speak behind him “ I hope, I didn't cause any trouble for you ?” 

“ I've caused worse” he bites out eyes traveling along the boys wilting body in judgment, I shake out my head stopping the urge to hit Jon over his black curly head for his cold treatment towards such a mick boy, yet I stay standing letting the men have their moment as two other younger recruits I believe are named Pye and Gren go to join in on the conversation.

I finally learn the fat boy names as he swallows out a stutter of introduction “ You can call me Sam! If you want?” Poor boy I think can't even make eyes contact with any of them, he looks as pale as a sheet as he fidgets his hands along his legs flaps “ my mother calls me Sam ?”

Stupid Jon has the nerve to cut him off in a similar tone already used against him by Ser Alliser one that reeks of judgment and disgust “ It's not going to get any easier, you know, you are going to have to defend yourself!” 

Gren adds in his own opinion with broken English and similar bewilderment as Jon though his face and tone are hard but layered with curiosity instead of disgust “ why didn't you get up and fight ?”

Sam responds back in panic softness head darting between the watching men “ I wanted to! I, i, just couldn't” lowering his head in self-accepted pity 

Gren’s own confused laced response seems to catch Sams attention as he spits out in the unrefined language of the common folk “ Why bloody not? it's easier than being beaten” 

I see poor Sam close his eyes with the meekness of one who's been broken down by the many, confessing in fidgety and uncomfortable stuttering his greatest shame“ I'm a coward, my father always say so” 

I'm relieved to see Jon soften slightly towards that, talking in the tone of an elderly caring soul as he stares down this wounded soul “ the Walls no place for cowards Sam ?”

He's bold enough to cut Jon off even though it's with the same nerves stuttering “ your right “ he looks down in resigned timidness before growing the courage to look back into Jon's dark eyes “ I only wanted to thank you” he finished with an almost smile shuffling off in a pained walk towards the armory.

I suppose it's good he already follows orders even if this is no place for such a boy, Jon newest friends banter between them in crudes jest about stupidness and cowardness as they chase each other about. I ignore it all, used to such male displays as I come to stand beside a still dumbfound Jon, who continues to watch the retreating form of sam with the most zeroed in eyes. 

“ some men value the mind over a sword, we all have our uses, even ones like him” I state out tonelessly into the chilling air of the north, joining Jon in his stance of watching the still walding boy as he makes his way slowly to the armory.

I can see the look of disagreement in his thining eyes before he even looks towards me “ I know, I’m one of those men, but here on the wall the measure of a man is by the strength of his steal, not charter or mind, I pity him, his life won't be easier here” 

I lift my lips into a mirth-filled smile one that reaches my eyes in sparking jest as I pat my hand over Jon's heart “ Well Jon snow you've already changed the lives of thousands, why not do it for one more, I dare say he needs it “ 

I manage to earn myself one of his blinding smiles, one that highlights the true beauty of his face, as he lays a kiss to my head “ very well, I was already going to intervene, just not so loudly” his tone is light now full of that thick northern accent I love so much 

I snort right back as I grab his hand walking towards the hall together amongst the stares of the men, they never did react well to mine and Jons more open shows of affection, they all mimic each other stares of jealousy and hate as we enter the warmed keep.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The hour is late as I unwind the thick layers of braids woven into my hair, I stare out the window eyes focusing on the bright full moon In the inky black sky. It’s almost fitting I think as I continue to stare upon its beauty for such a bright full moon to bless the open sky as I stare out the window at the hour of the wolf in the most magical place on earth. 

I let loose the final braid shaking out my hair as I run my finger through the think silver strands. They are beautiful and unique something to cherish even though they do continue to cause me such strife with each passing year I draw breath. For in this kingdom of Westeros there lives a man named King whose only true source of joy seems to come from the continued task of destroying the house that bore sure rare coloring alongside me. 

I let out a melancholy filled sigh as I shift in my seat coming to look upon the only other healthy member of my mother's house still living in Westeros. Jon I can't help but smile at his brooding stance, he appears so similar to Ned Stark at this moment as he runs a wet cloth over his Valyrian steel sword. I'm sure it doesn't need it longclaw is made of the rarest metal in all the world a unique substance that’s edge will never dull even after years of use. Yet we all have our mesmerism Jon’s is certainly more acceptable than my own as he passively wipes the cloth repeatedly over the blade's edge in capped rage.

He stabs the sword into the cold stone floor twisting the pommel in his hands twice before lifting his shining silver eyes to my own stormy sea blue ones. 

“I’ve never once realized how lucky I truly was with Ned Stark been my father until I learned the cruelness a lord father could commit against his heir” he speaks out in fridge coldness eyes returning to the hilt of his sword spinning it along the hard grey ground.

“What happened?” I ponder back shifting to untie the laces on my boots 

My eyes glance up to his still prone form, I spot his shoulders tense in tightness as he speaks into the open air not looking at anything in particular as stares in cold Stark rage “ Sam!” He cuts out swallowing as he takes a moment to reign in his temper.

“ I was taking a shift atop the wall” I hmm out straightening once more as I kick my shoes away focusing my full attention back on him. 

“ they sent Sam to join me, Alliser not so subtle jib I'm sure, he was nervous apparently afraid of heights and can't see very well, properly the worst place for him, so I asked what he was doing here and so he told me” he finishes with a tightness to his words hand tightening on his swords pommel as if preparing to strike out against a approaching enemy

“From your tone, I sense it wasn't good?” I respond back in open caring my interest peaked.

“ No,” he bites out all the rage and disgust he's feeling lacing his words in a horrid tone, one that still remains as his eyes glance sideways into mine 

“ he was going to kill him, just because he’s not the kind of son he wanted, what kind of man hates there, son ?” Jon's face twist into an ugly scowl as he speaks 

“ I don't know, what did he tell you ” I dare to breathe out into the break of conversation pushing him forward and away from his pondering mind 

Jon let's lose a bone-weary sign, hunching into himself as he continues to spin his sword in melancholy rage “ his father came to him on his 18 name day told him, his son that he wasn't worthy of his land or titles” 

My own face turns into a deep scowl at Jon's heartbreaking words, what kind of man, says that to his firstborn son, I know Sam was on the larger side but we all had our value. 

Jon speaks on his own face darkening into a frosty coldness of hardness that matches his darkening grey eyes “ he ordered him to take the black forsaking all claim to his inheritance,” 

“ what a cruel man” I cut out closing my eyes in disgust as Jon let's lose a disgusted snort 

“ that's not the worst of it, Sam continued on his tale, breaking to me the most disgusting part of his story, that man his very own father admitted I'm sure quite proudly, that he planned to kill him, he told him that if he did not take the black that they would go for a hunt and somewhere within those wood his horse would stumble and he would be thrown from his saddle and die or so he would tell his mother” 

I dumbfound into silence unable to come up with any words in way of response to Jon's story. To shocked, disgusted and angry to truly comprehend away to respond to such a tale, to be raised by such a man no wonder Sam appears to be a shrinking flower, constantly trying to hid himself against walls and amongst groups.

My own father is a cold man not known for any grand shows of affection, yet I could at least depend on the knowledge that he would never stoop to such lows. 

Jon's voice pulls me from my stump “ I turned away from him just for a moment I needed it to control my face to stop the burst of temper biting at the edges of me, then I promised him I'd help him”

I swallow down the bile I feeling Shane out my head in refined acceptance of the new way of things, I knew we couldn't change Sam past but we could help his future.

“ have you “ I question out in a much more peaceful tone Jon's way of response is a slight lift of his mouth an almost smile that speaks volumes of mischief, that he lacks to expand on, ending the thread of conversation with a firm nod

“ It’s late we should head to bed” I breath out into the cold air, he nods back in way of responsive still lost in his brooding mind.

we strip in silence moving around each other with the practiced ease of familial closeness, use to the patterns of each other after years of sleeping in rooms as one. 

I can't let it go as we climbed into the small lumpy bed of the night watch it can barely fit the two of us but we manage it with the entwining of limbs, he lays a soft kiss to my head as I lay it along his chest. I feel Jon's calloused hand run along my woolen covered back in a soothing pattern. 

Yet I shake it off momentarily raising my head from his chest to his shoulder so I might look into his eyes, I smile in mirth towards his peaceful face “ what did you do?”

He let's lose a soft snort accompanied by a playful smirk, he pulls me close moving his hand along my hip bone “ let's just say a direwolf is just as terrifying as a dragon when used properly”

I let loose an easy laugh frowning in confusion, which Jon notices easily enough expanding on the topic with moderate interest within his tone   
“ Gren and Pye are going to take care of him now, but the other trainees will stay away, for the time being, I thought whilst where here I'll have him shadow me, “

I hmm in responsive shifting onto my side as Jon pulls me close cradling my hips in softness as he buries his head into my neck and hair kissing me softly 

I pull away from him swatting his hand away as it moves lower towards my pussy “ it's too cold here” I mutter out 

“ it’s being colder,” he responds back as he kisses my neck once more “ but your right, don't wanna push it” 

We snuggle in closer laying into the peaceful silence of the night before I decide to break it my mind snapping back to there earlier thoughts of the night “ where did your kights go ?” 

“Oh, o’s took them to the shadow caves near old town, it's not the safest place for Tartarus but O’s is finally coming clean about everything,” he says it with a sheepish tone, 

My head snaps up as I twist my body to face him, shock and annoyance lacing my tone “ What? That wasn't the plan Jon, God dammit, you keep doing this, going at it alone! Are we a partnership or aren't we ?”

The sheepishness is still in his tone as he stares blankly back towards me, it’s the most annoying things about his pretty face, so often utterly controlled that I can't get a read of him before he speaks even then it's like pulling teeth. 

He let's lose a weary sigh dropping his head harshly back on the pillow in annoyance “ we are and I'm sorry, but they kept pestering me and after the news about the free folk. I just didn't want to deal with it, I assumed you would agree” 

I lay my head back down muttering out “ very well “ as we curl around each other once more.

There nothing but peace and silent in the room now as Jon hands returned to it previous action of rubbing my back in soothing strokes, I known I should leave it, give into the clam and full into my rest for the night, but my mind won't let me spinning around in an endless loops of questions.

Jon seems to sense my unease as he pulls me closer his voice breaking into the silence one more, though now laced with desperation “ War, I don't know if I can do it again” 

My hand twisted into his ringlets running my hand along them and down his collarbone, it's his secret spot, one that always seems to soothe him

“ it cost you a lot last time, your first love? Your first everything?” I speak out in a quiet tone it's barely above a whisper as I continue to rub his shoulder, his disquiet is un-nerving so I push on “ you never did tell me what happens” 

His tone is of that of the north hard, thick and layered with ice “ she died, there's nothing more to say” 

I known I should leave it but out if the two of us he's the only one to actually have fought against the free folk, plus my curiosity aches to be sayted so I push on my voice still soothing in the broken quiet “ I know she died when some of the free folk turned on you and marched on the nightfort hoping to let Mance and his army though, but we've never gone into detail, it might help with the upcoming battle “ 

His voice is impossible harder as he cuts out his response “ Leave it Sep!”

I sigh rolling away from him, if the bed was big enough, I wouldn't leave an inch of skin touching, my own coldness seems to force his hand as he lets out another sigh.

Speaking into the air with a lost look in his eyes and a tone ring through in a hollow melody of memory becoming lost in the past as he finally breaks the seal on the locked away memory “ you couldn't even call it a war let alone a battle, they were outnumbered, outmatched it was over in an hour, thousand dead and all for nothing” 

He swallows down whatever sorrows taking over his face and voice as he continues on with his tale “ Mance hasn't attacked since, but from the reports he has giants and mammoth and a thousand more warriors than last time, the one promising thing is that after almost two years the free folk are now only loyal to me, well us”

I move my hand along his chest in a soothing pattern, having moved onto my arm and stomach as he talked, “ what was it like losing ygritte in such away, I know she was your first love” 

He frowns slightly face turning into stone as his eyes shift from mine, he's pulling into himself, so like both his father in mannerism and personality when dealing with the darkness of the world.

His tone is still hollow but there's a tightness to his eyes that shows the pain that's slowly seeping into his words “ she thought I betrayed her choosing the north and the night’s watch over the free folk, I loved her and she loved me,” 

 

I let him take the moment to accept his feelings the broken look now taking over his face completely “ she shot me full of arrows when I tried to talk to her, to them, it's why she died why they all died” his whispers into the night. 

“ Tartarus” I whisper back looking into his eyes with secondary sadness 

He nods back playing with our joint hands “ I couldn't stop him, injured, bleeding, there was nothing I could do, not at first he ripped through them like paper ” 

“ I'm sorry” I whisper out pulling my hand free to rub along his jaw 

“I don't know who shot her, but she died in my arms, I was still bleeding and in pain, but I held her as she died, while Tartarus shirked above us scaring away the last of the rebelling free folk” he finished with a sigh closing back into himself 

“ thank you, for telling me, it was healthy for you and might be easier tomorrow when we talk through their past attacks” I reason towards him

"when we ?...... your leaving me on the morrow or had you forgotten!" he bites out towards my turned back

"Jon" I sign towards him "she needs me!" I shift again coming to sit up looking towards his still resting form 

"I need you ! " he all but shouts towards me "or have you forgotten the other part of your dream?...... me dead in the snow!"

I close my eyes to him blocking out the guilt I feel for leaving him, it's not working at first, not until the memory of my dream flashes through my mind Daenerys bent over in the ground blood and tears marking her body. it snaps shut the last lingering idea to stay with Jon instead of going to her in an instant. I push away his rubbing hand as I turn to him.

"you were older in my dream and have an army of protection around you!....... you have a dragon, direwolf, and guards who love you like a son not to mention family and friends you'll be fine for a month, she won't, not alone, I should have already gone to her"

"you don't know if it was even real?" he tries to reason towards me

"I don't care, she needs me more than you right now, plus we still have to deal with varys and the mess he caused with our money!"

he holds up his hand to me in peace "alright, alright, I'm sorry....... I'm being selfish?...... she family, it shouldn't even be a question about whether or not to help her"

I kiss his lips smiling towards he grouchy and guilt laced face " thank you...... I don't know what I'll find but she needs me"

He nods by way of response rolling onto his side pulling me with him, we settling back down against one another in the cold night. Falling into an easy peaceful sleep in the warmth of each other's bodies, finding the perfect comfort through contact now that the words were done.


End file.
